Exteel: CounterAttack
by BreakaKai
Summary: Based on the Korean MMO Shooter Exteel, CounterAttack is the story of the aftermath of the war described in the backstory of Exteel. It shifts from several perspectives, offering an omniscient yet limited view of the story.
1. Awakening

**I. Awakening**

Pain…..

It was a sensation I seemed familiar with. With great effort, I opened my eyes. The white lights hit me like a punch, and I reeled back from it, shutting my eyes tight. Slowly, I opened them again and repeated the process until my eyes were accustomed to the light. As I moved my head, I realized it was the only limb I could move. My eyes widened as I lifted my head and looked at my body. I was on a bed of some sort, dressed in a white shirt and pants. However, it was the things on top of me that got me.

Straps.

I was strapped to a bed. Frantically, I thrashed about, as though my movements could simply snap the straps. As I moved, I suddenly gasped with pain and fell back onto the bed with a dull thud. Christ, it hurt so much. It was more pain than I'd ever experienced in my life. Not even the time I broke my arm could compare to this. I realized the source of pain emanated from my stomach, and with a groan, I lifted my head again to see what was wrong.

Blood.

A pool of blood spread slowly over the white shirt, threatening to overtake the white as dominant color. No. I wasn't going to die, was I? _Breathe slowly,_ I told myself, as I took deep breaths, trying to filter the pain from my mind. There was a beeping next to my ear, and I turned to it, noticing the console next to my bed. Reading the display, I saw something flicker up and down really quickly, while a diagram of a human glowed red in the stomach area. _Hey, is that me?_ I mouthed, looking at the picture. I sure hoped it wasn't, because it read "Critical: Urgent Attention Needed."

"Everything feeling alright?"

I turned my head to the other side, and saw a woman who appeared to be in her early thirties. She was dressed in a white uniform, a small red cross on the breast of her shirt, with a nametag that read "Sarah McKinley." She was fairly attractive, with shoulder length blonde hair, and a small frame. She couldn't have been taller than 5' 7", I figured. With a grimace, I nodded in greeting. However, I found that my response didn't answer her question. Rather, it was a question of my own.

"Where am I….?" I asked. When the sound waves came out of my mouth, I paused. So that was my voice. Strange, because it felt like I was hearing my voice for the first time. "Heh," I added, wanting to hear it again. Was this how I sounded? I turned my head up at the ceiling and pondered. Now that I thought about it, I didn't _know_ how I was supposed to sound.

"You're in the medical section of the Aegis," she replied nonchalantly, removing a syringe from the tray that I didn't notice was next to my bed. It was then that I noticed the wire sticking out of the forearm of my left arm. But her voice caught my attention again. Aegis? What was that? A building? "Now, on a scale of one to ten, tell me how much it hurts," she ordered, syringe in hand. My eyes widened in alarm. What was she going to do with that?

"Twenty," I replied, grimacing again, as another wave of pain spread from the stomach to my entire body. Where were those painkillers, God-

"Okay," she replied, and jammed the syringe into a port on the tube connected to my arm. I raised my eyebrows in surprise. What the hell? But I breathed a sigh in relief as the pain began to fade, almost proportionately to how much of the fluid she injected into the tube. She must have noticed my smile, because she then asked, "How about now?"

"Zero….," I replied in a lazier manner, able to relax now. I looked to the console, and noticed that the "Critical" warning was no longer present. However, "my" stomach was still outlined in red, whereas the rest of my body was green. Although I was no expert in the medical field, I quickly put two and two together, realizing red was "bad," and green was "good."

"Good," she replied with a bright smile, and removed the syringe. The nurse then placed it in a trash bin while removing a small device from her waist. "Colonel? The subject is awake." There was a reply from the other line, and she nodded. "Alright, I'll meet you outside." Sarah then placed it back on her waist and murmured, "Be right back," before leaving the room via a sliding door. However, as I watched her, I realized something. I was alone, and the room was small. Plain, too. White walls, white floor, white ceiling, with lights embedded in the ceiling and walls. The room was empty except for me, the bed, and the console. _Feels more like a cell than a hospital room._ My ears perked up as I heard voices outside.

_"He's in excellent physical condition, but he's severely injured. A piece of shrapnel had pierced his intestines, so he might not be able to do things he might have once done, such as strenuous activities."_

_"Top physical condition? Is he a soldier?"_

_"I don't think so, but-"_

_"Let me judge that for myself."_

The door slid open again, and this time, two people walked in, behind them, two armed men. The two people in the front were women; one of them Nurse Sarah, the other, presumably the "Colonel," along with two of her soldiers. The Colonel's black uniform contrasted sharply with the white in the room. Although she'd been referred to as the Colonel, the only sign of military rank on her was a small gold nametag reading "Colonel Jean Smith."

"I'm Colonel Jean Smith," she began, extending her hand for me to shake. I would have shook it, but there was a problem: I was bound to the bed, and I could only move my head. In surprise, she looked from the straps to me, and motioned for her soldiers to remove them. Wordlessly, they approached the bedside and unstrapped me. With a groan, I slowly moved my limbs and sat up on my bed, putting my right hand out for her to shake. "Sorry about that. How are you feeling?" she said, taking my hand.

"I've been better," I murmured. The Colonel smiled and nodded understandingly. For a second, I could see why she was a leader; there was this quality of reassurance in her smile about her that made you think, "Yes, I can depend on her." However, my sentiments disappeared as quickly as they came, and I remembered the reality of my situation.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Can I ask your name?" The Colonel brushed some hair out of her face. For a second, I was mesmerized. Whereas Nurse Sarah had been _fairly_ attractive, Colonel Jean was downright beautiful. In fact, I had to stop and stare for a moment, wondering why she was in the military, when she belonged on the cover of a magazine. Her uniform showed off her curves nicely, and accentuated her long dark hair. However, my fantasies were brought crashing down when I realized I had to answer her question.

_My name…._

"My name….," I began, but the words wouldn't come out. What words? "Ummm…," I tried again, but found that I had nothing to say. _What's my name?!_ My heartbeat began increasing, and the console began showing warnings. I closed my eyes tightly, and tried to think, but no matter what corner of my mind I searched, I was met with no answer.

"…You don't know your name?" Jean asked incredulously.

"Yeah, I-," I began, but suddenly, the pain came back as Jean suddenly reached out and pinched my stomach. _I guess looks really can kill._ The pain came back all at once as she held fast to my wound.

"Would a shock make you remember?" she asked coldly, looking at my face. I imagined myself to be a beet red pathetic creature, writhing in pain, until she let go, and I collapsed backwards onto the bed, gasping.

"Colonel, please don't do that…."

"I…swear….," I breathed between gasps, clutching my stomach tightly. I was acutely aware of the returning scent of iron, but at this point, I was in too much pain to care. Was I going to die? Then I wanted to die at the Colonel's hands. The last things to touch me would be her beautiful hands.

"Well, I'll come back when you remember," she replied, turning around casually, and heading towards the exit. "Until then, you stay here in isolation." There was a sharp 'fiss' as the door slid open, and she disappeared into the white corridors outside. Her soldiers followed suit, while Nurse Sarah stayed behind, probably to help me.

"Sheesh, she could have killed you….," she murmured as she injected me with another shot of the pain-relieving fluid. I smiled as the fluids did their job, and the pain was soothed. I sighed in relief. The Colonel may have been beautiful, but as Nurse Sarah made me realize, beauty wasn't skin deep.


	2. First Strike

**II. First Strike**

1340 Hours Aboard the _Veritas._

_"All personnel prepare for combat."_

The disembodied female voice rang through the corridors as soldiers left and right prepared for battle. _This is it, Rene. Your chance to get your revenge._ A black haired woman in her early twenties ran down the hall along with her squad mates towards the hangar. She was an attractive one, albeit a little on the dark side. No matter who you were or how nice you were to her, Rene was cold. Not without reason too. After a certain incident in her life years ago, she'd convinced herself that she lived for one thing: the destruction of the terrorist group _Genesis._ Her jaw clenched and her eyes narrowed at the very thought.

The stomping of boots was quite loud when you thought about it. Six suited soldiers, all well trained and in peak physical condition weren't exactly the lightest objects. They all wore the same suits consisting of a dark green jumpsuit with their number printed on the back. Strapped onto their heads and covering their face was a helmet of the same color, complete with its own heads-up display that would connect with the Mechnaught.

_"Deployment will commence in T-minus sixty seconds."_

Her squad, numbered Seven, made its way into the hangar, where they all scattered and ran for their Mechnaughts. Although their Mechs were identical Stallion models, each member knew exactly where to go: a testament to their experience. Six hatches opened, and six soldiers jumped into their machines. 'Clack.' There was a scattering of whirring as their machines sprang to life, various lights flashing, and engines churning. _Let's go already….,_ Rene thought as she tapped her control stick impatiently, waiting for the system to warm up. The heads-up display flickered to life, as did a small menu that read:

**S T A L L I O N**  
_RSHK Type-2 #23_  
Private Rene Shin  
Password: ______________

Rene's hands danced over a keyboard, entering the sequence to fully activate the Mechnaught. There was a small beep of affirmation, and Rene wasted no time in walking her Stallion over to an open catapult, every footstep echoing in the large enclosed space. There was a small 'fizz' over the intercom as her squad leader, Brad, piped in. "Alright, kiddies. You know how it goes. Try to avoid the enemies. Looks like they're rocking Mehki's, so it shouldn't be too much of a problem. But stay on the task. Remember that our objective is to get inside their flagship and destroy it."

"Roger that," Rene replied, and docked the Mechnaught in place. A sequence popped up onto the screen, and she simply hit Enter, activating the catapult. _5, 4, 3, 2, 1-_ There was an incredibly loud boom, and a world-jarring shake as the machine was catapulted from a standing stop to a hundred miles per hour. Her Sentinel booster flared on, and she found herself flying, leaving the battleship with her squad.

As she looked at the rear camera, she couldn't help but appreciate the technology put into the ship, the _Veritas._ Practically a floating fortress, it had ten hangars capable of six Mechnaughts a piece, with a private hangar for the Commander onboard. In terms of shape, it was simple; the way Rene liked things. Long and phallic, resembling a fish without eyes, it was a strange gunmetal color. In the back were thrusters, and lined along the bottom were hidden anti-gravity units, pulsating now and then with an eerie blue glow.

_"Enemy spotted,"_ Wilson grunted over the intercom, and there was a 'fwoosh' from her right as a Stallion numbered 15 accelerated, boosting towards the enemy ship. Rene did the same, as did the rest of her squad.

_"Remember. As little enemy contact as possible."_

"Understood." Rene watched as her Energy meter slowly depleted as she took off towards the enemy, right on Wilson's tail. The enemy ship grew larger and larger in her display, and she saw the Mechnaughts waiting for them, as well as her target. _The Aegis._ Even though Rene hated Genesis, she had to admit that the terrorist group had taste. Their ship was well designed, with an interceptor design rather than a straight rod one. In contrast to her ship's gunmetal color, the Aegis was white, as if mocking them.

A battle of the black and white, no?

'Brt brt brt!' Bullets flew in from the front as the Mehki units drew their Tommy SMGs, spraying at her squad. However, their squad was chosen for a reason: the Stallion's almost unmatched speed. In terms of standard tier Mechnaughts, Stallion was the fastest. The Mehkis that the enemy were piloting? Yesteryear's technology, and therefore, inferior. Dodging and drawing her Marauder-B rifles, Rene waited for the enemy to come into range before firing.

_Locked on._

The rifles rocked up in recoil as both weapons spat out a thin blue beam of energy, targeted right for the enemy's chest. Sure enough, after the shots had reached their targets, there was a small 'boom,' and an orange-red explosion. _"Nice shot, Private."_ However, as they sped towards the Aegis, she realized that the rifles would be useless if they were in close quarters. With a small "tch," Rene strapped the rifles to her hips and took out a Beam Spitter-B, and a Particle Beam-B. Flying right at one blue and yellow Mehki, she dashed right through it, saber in hand. A small feeling of satisfaction rolled in as she saw the pieces of the Mechnaught lose use and power, beginning its fateful descent to the ground.

Carrying on, Rene began a vicious dance of death, shooting at enemies until she was within range, then cutting them down with her saber. Her Mechnaught moved with grace as only she could tell it to as it spun, struck, and blasted, making its way smoothly towards the Aegis' cargo bay, where she figured there would be easier access.

_"Private Shin! Clear the cargo bay and wait for the rest of us."_

"Got it." Draining the rest of her energy for the moment, she stabbed through the hatch on the cargo bay and latched on, the grinding of metal against metal very disconcerting for her ears. With great effort, Rene yanked on the control sticks, cutting through the alloy with her sword. _Almost there. Can't fail now!_ In a few moments, the Stallion had ripped a hole in the hatch and entered the ship.

That was when the alarms started blaring.


	3. The Great Escape

**III. The Great Escape**

"Ungh…."

It had been days since I woke up in this place. Although it had seemed pleasant at first, I found that the room's biggest torture was how _plain_ it was. It drove me crazy looking at nothing. Just smooth white in all directions. At least with a jail cell I could count the bars over and over to chip away at the boredom. I would have worked out, but everytime I tried to do a pushup, my stomach screamed with pain. They gave me nothing to do. Thinking about it now, I didn't even know who "they" were….

I don't know who I am either.

Over the course of the next few days, I passed the time by pondering. Who was I? Where did I come from? How did I end up here? How old was I? What was my family like? But no matter how hard I thought, the memories didn't return. But it was strange how I couldn't remember these all-important things, yet remember everyday things; how to brush my teeth. How to keep clean. However, I found that my morals were somewhat distorted. I had no real sense of right and wrong; just what to do to survive. However, the thought didn't linger, for everytime I arrived at these thoughts, Nurse Sarah arrived to perform check ups or bring me meals.

Godamnit, I was a prisoner of war.

For how much longer? I wondered. I climbed onto the bed and looked up at the ceiling, imagining myself walking out of this "Aegis" or whatever it was called. The crew would be apologizing, and he was going to walk out of here with his head held high….

…and a hole in his stomach. I now understood what Sarah meant when she said I wouldn't be able to do any strenuous activities. My intestines were more or less shredded, and the medical staff had performed a procedure attempting to fix it. The length of my intestines were now reduced by half, and I was sure this sharp pain would accompany me for years to come. I didn't understand _why_ they'd done this for me. For all they knew, I was a liability, or worse, a spy. But that was why they kept me in isolation, I reasoned.

'Boom.' A large blast rocked the entire area, and I damn near fell off my bed. I didn't know what kind of implications that would have, but I could surmise it wouldn't be pleasant. Gripping the edge of my bed tightly, my heart skipped a beat as the lights flickered for a few moments before cutting off, leaving me in the dark. The door slid open of its own accord, the lock presumably disengaged. An alarm was blaring outside, as was a voice that said, "Cargo Bay breached." I raised my eyebrows in confusion as I stepped outside, using the wall for support. There were people running around, most of them patients or medical staff.

_This is my chance to escape!_

Making my way down the once pure-white hallway now bathed in red from the alarm, I turned a right and continued. It was empty, and the hall gave me the sense that I wasn't supposed to be here. But I carried on, intent on finding a means to escape this place. Any way was fine. However, I passed a window, and my jaw dropped. Outside was blue, flecked with specks of orange, yellow, and red, connected by lines of red, blue, and yellow. Occasionally, I saw a flash of pink, followed by another explosion. I inched up to the window, looking in amazement, shock, and confusion.

_No._ I backed away and made my way down the hall. I was on a floating ship? Was it real? Was I still dreaming back in my ward? Yeah, that had to be it. I laughed to myself and pinched myself. _I'm going to wake up now._ I squeezed the skin on my left forearm hard, and I gasped, but my vision didn't change. I was still standing in a hall of red with booms sounding around me. I had to come to terms with the conclusion that I was _in the middle of a war._

'Fzz.' A door slid open as I passed it, and I doubled back in curiosity, looking at the room. Well, it wasn't a room so much as it was a hangar. I saw huge boxes stacked on top of each other, and in the midst of them, a shape covered by a large piece of cloth. It was also cold, I noticed, and I shivered as I stepped inside, curious about the shape. Walking down a flight of stairs quietly, I made my way to the shape, clutching my stomach. Upon arrival, I saw what appeared to be boosters, and legs. I also made out antennas pointing out from the sleek head. _Oh my God. I can steal one and leave._

Ducking inside the cloth, I looked in awe at the machinery before me. It was what appeared to be a giant robot; probably one of what the others outside were fighting with. This one in particular was red and silver, with large pods attached to the back. With anticipation, I approached the chest, wondering how to get inside and get out of this mess once and for all. As I approached the chest, I began touching the metallic surface, looking for a switch, button, keyhole, anything to get inside it. My hand brushed against something small, and I suppose I hit the right button because a second later, there was a small whirr, a hatch on the chest opening. Without further ado, I stepped inside and strapped in.

The control sticks and panels felt familiar to me, as if I'd been in one of these before. However, I couldn't remember if I had, so I assumed I hadn't. Heck, I didn't even know what these were until I passed that window. The hatch closed, and lights flickered on all around me. _Christ._ Three screens in front of me flickered to life: one in the center, and one to each of my sides. The heads-up display also appeared, and with it came a menu that read:

**R U S H N I K**  
_RSHK Type 1 #00_  
Enter Name: ____________  
Create Password: _________  
(Minimum six items)

I leaned back in my seat and thought it over. I didn't know my name, but I couldn't just leave this blank. With a shrug, I typed in "Zero" for the name slot, and "zerozero" for the password. Easy to remember, right? All "zero." There was a small blip of confirmation, and the machine was ready for action. Standing up, I felt the whole thing trembling and whirring as the different components moved. My body shook with nervousness as the thing gained its stance and the cloth fell off. However, the cloth removing itself was bad. Very bad.

I saw another robot before mine, and it was aiming a gun at me.


	4. Vantage Point

**IV. Vantage Point**

"Ma'am, this isn't-"

"I can see that." The lieutenant fell silent, and the control room of the Aegis did too. The only sound that could be heard were the booms all around, the clacking of keys, and shouting in the distance. No one said a word. Perhaps they were all aware of the impending crisis. It had been a colossal mistake to maneuver in the territory. But still, not all the fault could be placed on the Colonel, who gave the command to fly here. Genesis did everything as a team, even mistakes. The crew in the room looked at the large hologram projected onto the ceiling. A fairly accurate representation of the losing battle they were fighting. All around, blips that once registered as "Unit 6," or "Unit 8," flickered, lost life, and eventually became a sign on the hologram labeled, "MIA."

Colonel Jean Smith stood next to her Lieutenant, a usually jovial chap named Charles Schwarz. He had come aboard their little resistance not long ago, but he had shown himself to be a worthy one, and as a result, held a somewhat high position among the staff. But it was clear he was not used to the taste of defeat, for he was all but composed; his hands were pale and glistened with sweat, his body seemingly unable to generate warmth. His blonde hair was matted to his head by cold sweat beneath his hat, and every now and then, a drop of fluid flowed from his forest of hair down to his chin, before artificial gravity took over and took it to the ground.

_I don't believe this._ The Corporal clenched her jaw as she thought of what to do. _I'm an idiot._ With a roar, she slammed her fist onto the table before her and looked to the lieutenant, who flinched. "Yes ma'am?"

"Deploy _it._"

The lieutenant's eyes widened. "Ma'am, with all due respect-" He seemed genuinely scared now, and his expression carried the weight of everyone in the room. Not a few days after they recovered it they wanted to send it into battle? It hadn't even been set up, or tuned yet. In fact, if the lieutenant's memories served him right, it was equipped with two particle beam swords and nothing else. To top it off, it was essentially a degraded version of the Stallions that were causing the massacre outside.

"Soldier," she said sharply, and grabbed him by his collar. "I rank higher than you. I give orders. You listen," she hissed, pulling him close, her sharp eyes piercing his. They stared at each other in silence for a second before the lieutenant slowly nodded, and backed away towards the exit.

"Alright…. Alright…."

* * *

_"You have until the count of ten to step out of the Mechnaught."_ A voice echoed around the cargo bay. It was a woman's voice, I realized. As I tried to think of what to do, there was a loading screen in the corner of my display – _Synchronization with Sonic Boomer: 62%._ I turned an eyebrow up. What did that mean? Whatever it was, It sounded cool. Giving the control stick a push forward, my Mech's left arm raised, and the rest of the cloth fell to the ground.

"5, 4…." I looked up at my screen. _89%_ "3, 2-" _100%_ At the same instant her mechnaught pulled the trigger, I jerked both my control sticks to the right, and shot off to the side as her lasers struck the location I was at milliseconds ago. The cloth caught fire, and the smoke caused a series of sprinklers t go off, drenching the cargo bay.

But it wasn't over. I realized I had nothing to fight her with. But first, I had to get out of this enclosed space. As she raised her gun up to shoot me again, I pulled both sticks back. It was a dumb move, I realized, seeing as how she wouldn't need to adjust her aim to hit me. But then, there was a loud clang as something broke behind me, and I felt gravity taking its hold on me and my mech all too quickly. _Jesus Christ!_

It took some time to regain my composure, but suddenly, my foot found a pedal, and there was a loud roar, almost ear splitting – like a sonic boom. With a gasp, I looked at my HUD and realized I was flying; civilization below me. However, there was little time to marvel at the beautiful sight around me, for suddenly, a small beeping sound alerted me to the danger above. **WARNING. ENEMY LOCKED ON.**

_"You're mine!"_

"Wah!" I pulled my control sticks back, my entire body jerking sharply as the booster did its work. Another loud 'boom' and the other mechnaught flew right past me, seemingly in a descent for the surface of the earth. Too many things were happening at once, because then, a strange female voice sounded in my cockpit. "Warning. No weapons equipped." I swore as I tried to figure out what that meant. It seemed obvious, but it really wasn't. I'd assumed these things had weapons built into them or something. A stupid assumption, and I was paying for it now. _This was a bad idea._ However, I noticed something flashing on the upper left corner of my screen. **Two Particle Beams Sensed. Equip?** There was a flashing menu below it that read, "Y/N." _Yes or no. That much is obvious._ Another warning began to sound as the enemy came back for round two. "Shut up!" I yelled, and hit "Y."

'PWZZZZ. PWZZZZ." Moving by itself, the cockpit suddenly shifted slightly as the arms moved like lightning to draw the handles located on its hips. _So that's what they are._ I smirked and turned to face the enemy, approaching from below. Swords in hand, I dove down to meet my enemy. _You're finished!_ Giving my control sticks a sharp jerk as we were about to collide, I pushed the button located on the top of the stick. The result? My mech swerved to the side, at the same time swinging its arm, and consequently the sword, along with the beam to which it was attached.

'KRSHK.' A shower of sparks filled my screen as the enemy's arm was sliced off, along with the gun it held. Flipping heads over heels, the robotic limb made its descent, the gun separating from its hand as the limb became limp. _Whew._

"Warning. Enemy locked on."

In confusion, exasperation, and perhaps even annoyance, I turned around in time to block a large beam of pink. Sparks again filled my screen as our swords made contact, grinding against each other in a struggle of brute force. _She had a sword the whole time?_ I cursed under my breath as I attempted to move the control stick. But it wouldn't budge; her being on top meant gravity doubled her efforts, keeping me pinned as we stayed locked in midair. My intercom buzzed as she started talking to me over a private line. _"How dare you defile my Stallion!"_

I ignored her. I wasn't going to fall into her trap and lose my concentration. With a grunt, I suddenly boosted backwards, and swerved to the left, causing her to suddenly boost downwards. As planned, the Stallion dove past him yet again, only this time, it learned from its mistake and quickly turned to face him again. Drawing my arm back, I suddenly sent my left arm blitzing forward, letting go of the sword. Like a javelin, it pierced the air, on its way to do the same to the enemy.

* * *

"Ma'am!" The lieutenant came rushing back, his face sweatier than it had been when he first left. Everyone in the room turned to face him. _What could be wrong now?_

"What is it, Lieutenant?" The Colonel turned to face him slowly. Everything about the man told her he brought nothing but bad news. "Is the Rushnik deployed?"

"It's not there…," he croaked. There was a murmur of apprehension from the room. The room fell silent. Tension flooded the air like poison gas, quieting everyone. When everyone seemed to be at about their breaking point, a small beep sounded from a corner in the room, and everyone turned to face the source.

"Colonel, there's a unit marked "00" on the radar. I think you should-"

"Bring it up on the main screen." The left wall suddenly snapped on and showed what one of the cameras built into the ship was recording. Everyone gasped in shock, amazement, and confusion. Wasn't that the mechnaught Lieutenant Charles was just looking for? It was the first generation RSHK, the predecessor of the Stallions obliterating their troops outside. But what surprised the crew wasn't the fact that it was in combat. What surprised them was that it was holding its own against a Stallion – winning, even. In fact, a closer examination revealed that the Stallion was missing an arm, and that the Rushnik was dual wielding two energy swords, one of the arms poised to make the finishing blow. A flood of possibilities, predictions, and even bets spread through the room like a virus, before Jean raised her hand, silencing everyone.

"Contact the pilot. I want to know who it is."


	5. Intermission

**V. Intermission**

_No…_

Rene watched as the beam saber flew at her Mechnaught. Her body began to feel funny, as though she were in a spa – very relaxing. Was this it? Was she going to die, her dreams unfulfilled? Hell, she hadn't even made it past thirty, or gotten married. There were all kinds of things she wanted to get done, her main priority being the destruction of Genesis. The beam of pink grew larger and larger on her screen, contrasting sharply with the light blue sky. She tried to boost to the side, but her EN meter flashed [EMPTY]. It was recharging slowly but surely, just nowhere near enough to meet the minimum for boost. _Sayonara…_ She closed her eyes. _Mother, father, brother… I'm going to see you now…_

'BLAM'

A single gunshot rang through the air, and next thing she knew, pieces of the handle of the saber hit her mechnaught harmlessly, bouncing off her armor before scattering with the wind. Turning her vision upwards, she saw her squad arrive. A wry smile on her face, she spoke into the intercom. "Nice to see you make it as I'm about to get killed." She noted Wilson in the front, putting away his Iron Curtain. _Now I see why they call you 'CrackShot…'_

_"I'd make jokes too, but this is urgent. We have an order to retreat."_ Brad sounded urgent, as though he'd just been told grave news. Rene turned her eyebrows up in confusion. What? Retreat? Seeing as how her squad managed to arrive, the enemy's forces must have been utterly annihilated. Why retreat now? Besides, she had a bone to pick with this guy right here, and it didn't matter if she did it with one arm.

Rene scoffed incredulously, and moved her control sticks, preparing to lunge at the Rushnik. "Sir, at least let me-"

_"Private, these are orders from Section 2. We can't ignore them."_ Rene's heart skipped a beat. _Section 2?!_ It was the second highest ranking group of individuals, after the Prime Minister and his advisors. Whereas the Prime Minister took care of mainly politics and relations with other nations, Section 2, composed of the highest ranking and most brilliant officers, took care of security. Sometimes, they answered to the Prime Minister, but they usually operated independently.

"….Roger that," she answered reluctantly, and began flying back to the Veritas, joining her squad.

* * *

_What was that?!_

I was so sure my last strike was going to finish her! What the hell happened?! But my question was quickly answered by the mech's beginning-to-get-annoying voice. "Warning. Incoming enemy attack." I turned to my left and watched a squad of five mechnaughts, identical to the one I'd just fought arrive. As they approached, I saw one of them putting away a rifle, which got me thinking.

_He shot my beam saber?_

Impossible. He did it while moving.

But I saw no other explanation. The squad stopped, suspended in midair as they addressed the mechnaught I was about to kill. Presumably, they were talking over a private line, because they seemed to just be staring at each other. After a few tense moments where I wondered if they were going to suddenly gang up on and kill me, they turned about face and left, their broken comrade following suit. _That's it?!_ Anger burned up in me as they simply ignored me and turned their back on me. I couldn't explain it, but I was pretty sure this could be attributed to a thing called _pride._ My hands clenched the control sticks tightly as I watched their figures grow smaller and smaller until they reached their ship.

_They didn't ignore me or kill me off. Did they think I wasn't worth it?_ I smiled to myself, thinking of all sorts of ways to get back at them. I'd sneak aboard their ship and slaughter every last-

'FZZ.' My intercom buzzed to life again, and a window flashed onto my HUD. _"00, who are you?"_ I smiled as I realized it was the Colonel speaking. She was visibly shaken, and she looked quite shocked when she saw me smiling at her from my seat.

"Well, I'm glad you asked," I said with a laugh. "But I still can't remember."

The Colonel scowled and sighed. _"You're a f*cking idiot….,"_ she murmured with a smile of her own, and the crew in the room with her laughed. However, as quickly as it came, her happiness disappeared, and she looked at me sharply. Even if it was a digital one, her glare still sent shivers down my spine as I recalled what she'd done to me the day I awoke. _"Get back onboard. I've given you clearance to Hangar 3."_

I hesitated, my arms wanting to jerk the controls sticks around and boost like mad. I didn't want to go back onboard, was she kidding me? Still, a look at my radar showed six dots approaching me. As I thought, six mechnaughts came and quickly surrounded me, their rifles, spears, and other weapons pointed at me. _Terrific,_ I thought with a scowl. Even if I was mad that the squad from before had abandoned me, it would be suicide to think I could take them on now. _"Zero Zero, please follow us."_

"Sure, sure, I murmured, a sinking feeling in my stomach as I neared the "Aegis."

* * *

"It worked?" The Colonel's face showed stress, all of it flushed away by a large sigh she released after she watched the six Stallions retreat to their ship. They were safe – for now. A few moments ago, she had given her crew orders to create an order to retreat, and encrypt them as orders from "Section 2." While Section 2 _did_ exist, and it was in fact, high ranking, Jean had no idea what it did, or whether the troops would comply. It had been a gamble.

"Yes ma'am. Brilliant move."

But like that lucky man sitting next to you in the Casino? Jean had struck gold. It'd take time for the enemy to figure out that the message was a phony, but seeing as how they _heavily_ encrypted it, and it was from Section 2, they should have little reason to question it. All of Colonel Jean's worries dissipated as she watched the enemy ship disappear from view, jumping to another location. If only the Aegis had a Jump Drive like that, this whole affair could have been avoided. She grimaced as she thought about the soldiers lost today. "What's the casualty count?" she asked hollowly, looking at the ground.

"About thirty. Mostly Mehki's."

"Thank you. Send me their names later."

"Got it." The Colonel sat down in her seat and sighed, rubbing her temples. Thirty soldiers died, because of a blunder she made. Of course, it wasn't entirely her fault, as mentioned above. Merely that the enemy ship had been cloaked when they arrived, and it was only after they uncloaked and began to attack did she realize they were right in the enemy's hands.

_The soldiers…_ Colonel Jean Smith had a strange ritual. After every battle, she would count up the casualties, look up their names, and spend the night memorizing their names, feeling the pain. She was a commanding officer, so she couldn't be in battle everytime, but it hurt to think men killed and died under her orders. Her eyes traveled over to the hologram on the ceiling, registering all the "MIA" signals.

Tonight was going to be a busy one.

A small device on her waist chirped, and she picked it up, holding down a button. "What is it, Sergeant?"

_"We're back, and 'Zero' is about to finish docking. Your orders?"_

"Bring him to the control room."

_"Yes ma'am."_


	6. History Lesson

*I don't have enough knowledge on the backstory of Exteel, so I'll leave details such as years and key battles relatively vague. I'll probably revise this when and if the backstory is translated.

**VI. History Lesson**

Well, this was uncomfortable.

I was led down a hallway, flanked by a soldier on either side of me, the Colonel leading, and a soldier behind. In other words, I was surrounded, and forced to follow the woman. The alarms were gone, now that the danger was averted, and the cargo bay (probably) was being fixed. Still, I felt uneasy. Was I being taken to my execution? Did they think I was trying to escape? Well, I was, but they didn't know that. For all they knew, I had been trying to help. I grimaced as I was suddenly shoved to the right by a soldier. Damn, I'd gotten so wrapped up in my thoughts I didn't watch where I was going.

Oh yeah, I still had a huge scar on my stomach. It was a miracle it hadn't ripped open again when I was piloting that thing. What was it anyway? And the more I walked and thought about it, the bigger the ship seemed. We'd been walking for five minutes already, through a labyrinth of white, occasionally passing a window. Maybe it was because I was unfamiliar with the Aegis. I hoped I wouldn't stick around long enough to familiarize myself.

"Inside," the Colonel said sternly, opening a sliding door with a card, and pointing in. With little choice or enthusiasm, I let the soldiers usher me inside. I found it wasn't empty. Nurse Sarah was there, and I felt a little relief. Although we weren't exactly friends, I felt closest to her, since she took care of me and all. Heck, she even stuck up for me that time the Colonel tried to torture me. She smiled and nodded in greeting; a gesture I returned.

The room was bare, much like my last room. Actually. Wait, this _was_ my room. The door closed behind me, and a sinking feeling hit me. Oh no, was she going to torture me again? The Colonel motioned for me to sit down on the bed and I complied, gingerly setting myself down so my wound wouldn't open. I grimaced as I made myself comfortable. I noticed the soldiers weren't in the room with us. Did that mean she trusted me a little, or was she going to torture me and spare her soldiers the sight of that? Have them clean the mess up later?

Nurse Sarah began shoving needles and tubes into me again, but I was able to ignore the sensations this time around. However, I was a bit distracted by the console, which flashed to life. _The stomach is orange now. I guess it's getting better._ I looked at the Colonel, who seemed deep in thought. I felt something rushing into my bloodstream as Sarah injected something into me.

"Why did you go to the Cargo Bay even though the warning said, 'Cargo Bay Breached?'" the Colonel began, taking a seat next to me with her arms and legs crossed.

Oh, so that's what it was. I suppose I should have known from the big boxes, but the cloth covered shape made me curious. I shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't even know where the cargo bay was. The door opened, so I start walking around…" The Colonel stared as if she couldn't believe how stupid I was. I could see the gears churning in her head: _He didn't know it was the cargo bay._ However, she didn't dwell on it, because she asked another question.

"Why did you steal the Rushnik?"

"The what?" I remembered hearing or seeing that word, but I couldn't place my finger on it.

"The mechnaught you were piloting."

Oh, so that's what it was. Now I remember! The log in screen thing. "Oh, umm….," I began, but couldn't answer. How was I supposed to answer, anyway? _"Oh yeah, Colonel. I stole it because I wanted to escape."_ Instead, I tried to lie a bit. I was tempted to make myself as some sort of hero who wanted to help them since they helped me, but I was afraid it would be too obvious. "Well, I was curious what was under the cloth, so I stepped under and poked around. Then, the hatch opened and I went inside. Next thing I knew?"

I shrugged. "Another one of those things was pointing a gun at me." She stared at me briefly before moving like the flash. **Whap!** Christ, I didn't even see her move! But I was fully blow away by her backhand; the sting of her knuckles could still be felt as my head turned with her blow. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nurse Sarah flinch, possibly trying to pass it off as fidgeting. "Ow!" I cried, holding my right cheek. Nurse Sarah looked as though she wanted stop the Colonel, but lacked the power or courage. Instead, she abandoned me and left, the door sliding shut behind her.

Christ, I was alone with her.

"Don't f*ck with me," Jean said menacingly, and placed her hand over her chest again. She leaned in close, as though she knew everything about me, and as if this was just some kind of test. "Say it. You wanted to escape, and you saw that as the perfect opportunity." I blinked. Wow, she was dead on. Could she read my mind? I decided to test my theory by thinking of lewd things, all of them involving the Colonel. I might have been too obvious, because she suddenly said, "Eyes up here," lifting my chin to look at her face.

I hesitated, and turned my head to the side, wrenching it out of her grip. "If you knew, then why'd you ask?" I spat. Christ, my cheek still stung. Was she actually muscular underneath that uniform? I shuddered at the thought.

"I wanted to see if you were trustworthy."

"Well, I'm not. I just want to be out of here. I want no part of you and your little games." I returned her sharp stare, determined not to let her stare me down. She returned my stare for a moment, and in that moment, we were both completely motionless until – _ahh,itchy…._ Until I turned away to rub my eye. She gave a soft scoff and fished something out of her pocket.

"What if I told you about our ambitions…. What should I call you?" she swiveled in her chair to look at the wall rather than me. I didn't know what that meant; perhaps it was going to be along story, and she didn't want to look at me as she told it. But yeah, I needed something close to a name, so she wouldn't refer to me as "hey," or, "that guy."

"You can call me whatever you like," I said with a tone of finality, but immediately regretted it. What if she gave me an obscene name like, "Sh*t," or something? I waited in anticipation.

"Then I'll call you Zero," she said with a small smirk, glancing sideways at me. "Zero after the mechnaught you stole." I rolled my eyes, and her hand moved, causing me to flinch slightly. However, all she did was take something out of her pocket. A tissue, with which she blew her nose. She probably didn't notice my flinch, or ignored it, because she began to tell her story. "Are you aware of the state of Taryn at the moment?" She turned to look at me. "Do you remember anything in the last…. Ten years?"

I stared blankly at her. "No. I have no recollection of actual events, just practical things."

She nodded slowly. "I see." With a shrug, she continued, uncrossing her legs and changing the order in which they were crossed. "You don't seem to be the type to be interested in history, and I'm a hundred percent clear on the details myself. So I'll give you a condensed version." I nodded expectantly, my curiosity peaked. "It is currently year 2247, and are currently on a planet called _Natha._" _Natha._ I said the word over in my head. It didn't ring any bells, but I was willing to expect what she was saying.

"Go on…"

"A long time ago, there was a war. Like most wars, this one was fought for territory, and sparked by violence. There were four factions that inhabited the continent of Taryn before. Today, they are united, albeit forcefully, under one name: The Marston Federation." She paused and reached over for a glass of water I had no idea was there. "Before they were united, they warred with one another. The war was initially between Marston and Palamo over border disputes, but when you live so close to a conflict, you can't help but join in. Aiers and West Palamo joined in as well." She stood up now, beginning to pace around the room as she spoke. I couldn't help but think she'd make a good teacher.

"Marston won?" I asked, incredulous.

"Yes," she said, nodding. "Their victory can most be attributed to a mechnaught they developed in the last years of the war: the Zeeker." I nodded as if I understood. It sounded mean, but I wasn't entirely convinced one piece of technology could win a war against three other nations. "One by one, the nations were invade and molded into Marston until the entire continent of Taryn was under Marston's control. Now a military dictatorship, the Marston Federation is the reason we, Genesis, exist." I blinked. A terrorist organization with piss poor mechnaughts and (as far as I knew,) one ship wanted to remove Marston from power? But she wasn't done yet. "Marston is ruled by aristocracy. Still is. Humanity isn't so equal under their rule. In fact, it's downright depressing." She returned to the chair next to my bed and sat down. Oh, she was finished? My opinion on her being a good teacher disappeared as I realized she wasn't too great a speaker. I got the point, yes, but her speech wasn't quite eloquent.

"Right…," I said, nodding my head slowly. I still had little interest in this affair. The state of the world be damned, I just wanted a normal life. I think I could make do without my memories. "Why did you tell me all that?" I inquired. It came out a little rude, and I _was_ the one who asked her to "carry on," but she didn't hit me or anything.

"I was hoping you'd stay and fight with us."

I looked at her in surprise. "You thought that if you told me…"

"Yes, I thought you'd join me –us, if I did." I remained silent for a while before laughter suddenly escaped my lips. She looked infuriated, but she resisted the urge to hit me.

"Hah! You were right before," I said, leaning back in my bed. "You were right – I did steal the mech, hoping I could escape with it." My smile disappeared as I asked her a question of my own. "What makes you think I want to be involved in all this?" I pointed to my stomach. "Look at me. I'm basically a cripple." My smile returned as I tried to warm up to her a bit. It seems I wasn't a very charismatic person. "C'mon, Colonel. Give me a crappy shuttle or something, and let me-"

Colonel Jean suddenly removed something from her pocket – a small device with a button on it. "Do you know what this is, _Zero?_" I paused. It didn't look good.

"It's a lighter," I guessed, taking a stab in the dark.

She smirked at my response as if the joke was on me. "If I push this button, your blood will turn into acid and corrode you from the inside." My heart stopped at her words. Was she serious? I stared at her blankly for a second before chuckling. This woman! She was a funny one, alright! What, did she think this was some kind of bad science fiction movie?

"Good one, Colonel. How the Hell are you going to do that?"

"Nurse Sarah injected you with something a few moments ago, before she left." My heart stopped again as the realization set in. No, but still! It was in my bloodstream; it'd still filter out after a while, right? If anything, it would just dissolve in my blood. "Care to guess what it is?"

"Your love juice."

**Wham!** I was hit in the exact same place again as she lost her temper and backhanded me again. However, she was a lot stronger than she looked, because next thing I knew, I was on the floor, the Colonel standing over me. Acting quickly, I threw my legs out at her ankles and caused her to topple over, the device slipping out of her hands and skittering across the ground. Lunging under the bed to get to the device, I threw myself on top of it before she threw herself on me, pinning me down. My stomach screamed with pain, but I was in no position to complain. This was 99% my fault, the other 1% the Colonel's stubbornness. We both lay there for a few seconds, her catching her breath, myself trying to filter out the pain.

"You son of a b*tch," she breathed, putting me in a headlock. I gagged as my air was cut off, and I did the only thing I thought of. With a grunt, I pushed up with both my arms, flipping myself up and reversing our positions. However, I was still in a headlock, and I was beginning to feel weak. For some reason, I felt reluctant to hit a woman, but I reminded myself that she was going to kill me if she got the device. I held tightly to it, trying to-

**FWSH.** The door slid open and the guards walked in, rifles drawn and safety unlocked. "Get off the Colonel, motherf*cker!" they yelled, shaking the gun the way someone might shake a fist. I looked up the barrels of the guns for a few seconds before the Colonel released her hold, and I stood up, backing away from the panting female. Stealthily, while everyone's attention was focused on her, I slipped the device down my pants into the private area. A little uncomfortable to be sure, but I had to do this. She wouldn't dare reach down there, would she?

"Are you alright, Colonel?"

"Yeah…I'm fine…," she said, wiping her mouth as she looked everywhere for the remote. Her gaze turned to me accusingly, and she held out her hand. "Turn it over."

"Three guesses where it is, honey," I said with a grin, and she suddenly kicked me where I'd put the remote, causing me to topple over, my pain increasing tenfold. _Jesus Christ!_ As I moaned on the floor, holding my family jewels, she came over and kicked my face with her boot, turning me over. The soldiers quickly came and held me down as she did the tricky business of reaching into my pants and removing the device.

"You're a cheeky one, aren't you?" She slipped the thing into her pocket and held out her hand, and a rifle was quickly passed to her. "You think I didn't see you? Or I wouldn't dare go there?" She held it by the tip of the barrel and swung it into my shoulder, bringing me more pain. Oh God, she was going to kill me. I knew I could take her on myself, but I'd forgotten about the guards. She returned the rifle back to the soldier and they released me. But it made no difference, because I was in too much pain to move.

"I can push this button and kill you at any time. Remember that," she spat, and began heading for the door. However, she stopped short and turned around for last words. "I'll be coming once a day to hear your decision. I want to hear the following words: 'I will swear loyalty to you and join Genesis.' If I don't hear those words, we can keep having fun like we just did."

"Can we do it on my bed next time?"

**Wham!** She kicked me in the hip with a blank expression on her face and briskly left the room before I could make anymore lewd comments. Her soldiers followed suit, a bit shaken. Was I the only one who dared say such things to her? The door slid shut, and I groaned, forcing myself to get up so I could lay down on my bed. Well, I'd figured a few things out about her, and one of them was that she wasn't going to kill me.

Yet.


	7. Coincidence

**VII. Coincidence**

_1930 Hours aboard the Veritas._

"Rene?"

Private Rene Shin looked up at her squad leader, Brad. Immediately, she stood up to salute, but he raised his hand to stop her. "Relax. We're all friends here, remember?" She scowled and looked off to the side. Were they? Rene Shin liked to think their friendship was _strictly professional,_ but she couldn't help but feel a tinge of affection for the man. However, to combat her feelings and stay focused on task, she often acted cold and negligent to people. _I can't be distracted._

It didn't help that she was still angry over the battle from a few days ago too. Victory had been in their grasp. Why had Section 2 issued such an order? What did they know that she didn't? Her fist clenched as she leaned against her locker's metallic surface. She was beginning to feel awkward now, seeing as how she was in the locker with just Brad. But he seemed nonchalant about it, removing his shirt and slipping on a fresh one. As he changed, he spoke.

"Anyway, there's going to be some kind of party held by Maximilian Leopoldo. All personnel should attend, I think." Rene raised her eyebrows in surprise. Maximilian Leopoldo? Wasn't he the former General of Marston during the war? "It's some kind of banquet he holds once a year to celebrate Marston's victory," Brad explained. Her face fell slightly. She had never been a fan of that. Although there was relative peace now, it came with a price. The government of the Marston Federation was quite oppressive, especially to those of Aier, Palamo, or West Palamo descent. Marston was still practically ruled by Aristocrats, and it was simply the way they did things. To top it off, she had to turn a blind eye to all this in order to achieve her goal.

"I'll go," she answered as he zipped up his bag, ready to go. "When is it?"

"Tomorrow at noon, Leopoldo Estate. Try not to look as shabby as your Stallion when you get there, yeah?" he said with a laugh, giving her a small tap on the shoulder. With a small salute, he left. She frowned. That's right, her mechnaught still wasn't repaired. The more she thought about it, the more pissed off she became. She had been bested by someone who didn't even use a gun. To make it worse, the said person used an older version of _her_ mechnaught to defeat her. She punched her locker in frustration.

_Unacceptable._

* * *

_1930 Hours aboard the Aegis._

"What's it gonna be?"

I looked at the Colonel as she walked into the room. I rolled my eyes. It had been three days since the first incident involving the remote, and everyday after that, she'd come in once a day, and left, a few more bruises on my body than when she'd entered. It occurred to me that such behavior was illegal – it had to be. But seeing as how the group "Genesis" was more or less a terrorist group, I supposed it didn't matter to them. They got what they wanted through violence anyway, didn't they? I groaned and turned so that my back was facing her. "You know the answer. Why don't you just push the big red button already?"

There was a sharp pain in my back as I was kicked off the bed. With a yell, I fell, catching myself with my forearms. However, I found nothing hurt so much anymore. My stomach wound had sealed, and even if it hurt that would be the worst thing that could happen. I hoped. I turned to look up at her. Christ, if we'd met under different circumstances, I was sure we could have had something going. "Because you're a valuable one. You've clearly piloted mechs before, and you would be useful to us."

A sneer twisted onto my face. "So that's it. You need me," I said with a sigh of relief. Well, if they needed me, then at the very least, they wouldn't kill me.

"Just remember that you're only as valuable as the results you produce." My smile fell, and reality came crashing down. It was hopeless. Even if the acid blood thing was a trick, she could shoot me down or kill me any time she wanted. I could escape, but she'd probably send every last mech out looking for me. In fact, when I thought about it? Even if I got to civilization, there'd be nothing for me. Assuming she hadn't lied to me about the Marston government being oppressive and corrupt, I'd be screwed if I went to them anyway. I had no ID, no sense of idenitity. She probably realized my thought process, because she asked me again.

"What's it gonna be?"

I sighed, and looked up at her. "I'll work with you." Her face lit up, but I quickly raised my arm to stop her from getting too excited. "With conditions." Her smile faltered, and she raised an eyebrow. "I get to pilot that thing from before."

"I was going to have you pilot that anyway."

"And I get to act independently."

"Bullsh*t," she said, and gripped me by my shirt. "I'm the highest ranking officer on this ship. You answer to _me_ at the very least."

I shrugged. "Alright. Just kill me." I was bluffing, of course. I didn't want to die. But I was hoping she wouldn't know this, and seeing as how she needed me, I couldn't see her refusing my offer. We locked eyes for a few long moments while her guards watched. They were ready to put holes in me if I even so much as sniffed the wrong way. However, during our little staring contest, her expression suddenly changed, her grip loosening.

"Alright then." I blinked. _What?_ The Colonel gave me a smirk, and removed her hand. "Agreed. You work with us, but you can act independently." I blinked again in rapid succession.

"I do?"

"Yep," she replied, and turned to leave the room. I could hardly believe it. But at the same time, I was scared. What if she sent me on a suicide mission to mess with me? Wait, if I answered to no one, then I was free. But I wasn't going to let her know about the loophole I planted. Barely able to hide my glee, I jumped to my feet and saluted her retreating back.

"Yes ma'am!"

* * *

_930 Hours, Marston 202nd Base._

Rene lay on her bed in her room.

There was a photograph on her phone that she liked to look at; one of her family. Or old family. Her family now was her squad, seeing as how she was around them all the time, and her _real_ family was well, _dead._ In the photograph, a mother and father stood behind a smiling girl, holding a smiling boy's hands. The location was a carnival of some sort, with a large ferris wheel in the back. Rene smiled at the picture. _I'll avenge you three. I promise._

There was a knock on her door, and she slipped the phone into her purse. Purse? What would a soldier need a purse for? And what about the black dress she was wearing? Rene quickly stood up from her bed, straightening out the dress. _I hope this isn't too much,_ she thought as she cleared her throat and said, "Come in." The door slid open, and to her surprise, her whole squad was there, all dressed in black suits. Even more surprising was that they were silent when they saw her.

"Have you seen Rene?" Brad asked slowly.

"Are you kidding?" Rene asked, confused. Was he joking around-

"Well, we're on our way somewhere, and we thought we'd pick her up, since we're going to the same place. But I guess she went ahead," Wilson said with a shrug.

"I'm Rene, you idiots!"

* * *

_930 Hours aboard the Aegis._

**FShhh…..**

I had forgotten how great showers felt. Then again, I'd forgotten a lot of other things too. I stood under the flow of water, enjoying every last drop. I examined my wound, which didn't look so bad now; just a line across my chiseled abs. I smiled at the thought. _Chiseled abs._ How did I get these anyway? I gave them a small slap and grimaced. Oh, right, I had bruises all over my body, including my abs, even hands.

I shut off the shower head and stepped out of it, amidst the steam and moisture. I grabbed a towel off the rack and wrapped it around my waist, in case anyone came in. Supporting myself against the sink, I wiped some of the steam off the mirror and took a look at myself. _So that's what I look like._ In the mirror, I saw a man with chiseled features, a pointy nose, strangely dark eyes, and shiny black hair, fairly long length. The body was covered in bruises and cuts, along with the scar on the stomach mentioned before. I took a step back and looked at the big picture. _Not bad._ But how old was I? The face told me I couldn't have been older than mid-twenties, but wasn't there technology to change your looks? Had I done that in the past? Hell, where did this muscle I had no idea I had come from? I flexed, grinning as I checked myself out. It was a strangely surreal experience, getting to know myself.

"Zero, get your ss over here. I have an assignment for you."

_1030 Hours on the way to the Banquet._

"I still can't believe what I'm seeing."

"You better believe it."

The hum of the motor of the limousine served as good background noise for the conversation onboard. Rene was seated next to Brad, who was next to Wilson, who was next to Terry, who was next to Elise, who was next to Andrew, who was next to Rene. Look at that, they were sitting in a circle! Rene played with the strap on her purse impatiently as her squadmates laughed, joked, conversed, and did their thing. For some reason, she could never bring herself to join them. No matter what she did, she felt that odd sense of alienation, as if she didn't belong there.

"Rene, did you talk to the guy in the Rushnik?" Terry asked suddenly. Everyone turned to look at her, even the driver, who flashed a glance briefly in the rearview mirror.

"I talked to him, but he didn't respond," she said. "Assuming it's a 'he.'"

"Aww, c'mon," Wilson said with a laugh. "Could a woman have piloted like that?"

"Hey, hey…," Brad said, acting as the moderator.

Rene merely scowled and sighed, turning her head to look out the window. The view outside was nice, although it wasn't anything like what she liked to see. Rene liked natural landscapes, such as forests and mountains, etc. But she'd never want to live there; it seemed far too impractical and isolated. They were on a bridge, she realized; it encircled the capitol city of Aluma: a sea of silver skyscrapers farther than the eye could see. It was good weather too; blue skies freckled by wisps of white clouds. But somehow, Rene couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen.

* * *

_1030 Hours aboard the Aegis._

"You're kidding me."

I looked at the information on the screen in disbelief. As she'd so bluntly reacted when I suggested I work for no one, this was utter _bullsh*t._ Jean was just pulling my leg, wasn't she? I read it over and over again to see if I read it right. I still remembered how to read, and unless this was a language awfully similar to English, I was reading it correctly. "What the hell is this?"

"Relax. It's actually quite simple-"

"No, forget about it," I said decisively, sitting up from the couch. I was semi-aware that I was in the Colonel's quarters half naked, unarmed, and with the balls to refuse her orders. However, I was also aware of the danger in her little "assignment." Here was what she wanted me to do: There was going to be a banquet at some big shot's estate today. In one and a half hour, actually. I was to attend the party, masquerade as a civilian, and try to pick up snippets of information. She was told all the high ranked officers and their crew would be attending, which would be the source of the information.

Doesn't sound dangerous? Well, it's dangerous when you're being asked to eavesdrop on soldiers. Soldiers who could probably tell you were eavesdropping, and wouldn't hesitate to capture and interrogate you. Oppressive government, remember? At least, it was the way I envisioned it in my mind. "Colonel, _please._" I pleaded. "Anything but this. I tell you, if I go in there, I'm not coming back out. Besides, how can I go in there alone? Wouldn't that be suspicious?"

"You don't have a choice, sshole," she snapped, and leaned back in her chair. "As long as you're on this ship, you listen to me." I glared at her, but I probably didn't look very menacing. A half naked young man, still wet behind the ears from the shower not too long ago…

"I'm going to die," I croaked.

"You're dying if you don't obey me," she said with a sigh, taking out the device. I put my face in my palms. Come on, not this sh*t again. I'd lost count of how many times she threatened me with that thing. The most agonizing thing about the process was I still wasn't aware of its authenticity. I could be completely fooled by her whole scheme, but feel retarded when and if I found out it was a sham.

Decisions, decisions.

"Why can't someone else do this?"

"They're busy." I looked at her. She was full of it, I knew she was. There was a thousand people on this ship, and not one of them was available to do this. But there was no way to prove or disprove it, and I could only stare back in anger.

But then, I had an idea. "Fine, but you come with me," I said with a grin.

* * *

_1200 hours, Leopoldo Estate._

"What a place!"

"The property here is like, half the city…"

Rene made her way out of the limousine, careful not to drop anything on her way out. She grimaced as she tried not to stumble over he feet. What was the point of high heels anyway? They didn't make you look any better, and they sure as hell didn't make you walk any better. Her long black hair flowed behind her as she walked, although there was no wind. It was simply an aura of elegance one couldn't acquire; you had to be born with it. Heads turned as she walked towards the gate, making her way past the motionless bodyguards.

"Rene, you're just going to leave us like that?"

"No, you're just falling behind," she said with a smirk.

"Look at that, the lil' lady's got jokes!"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a familiar looking man enter through the gates as well. Her heart skipped a beat, and her head snapped around to take a better look, but he was gone. Her eyes turned up in confusion. Had she imagined that? She shook her head and continued walking. No, he was dead. How could he be here? Rene had just been thinking about him lately, that was all.

"Ma'am, can I see your identification please?" The guard had been talking to her, holding his hand out expectantly.

"Oh – um, yeah…," she said, reaching into her purse for her wallet, and consequently, her military ID.

"Move along," he said, waiving them in.

"Looks like she's found a hottie and can't pay attention," Elise quipped, to which Wilson answered.

"I know, I have that effect on people."

"Shut up," Rene growled.

* * *

_1200 hours, Leopoldo Estate._

"What kind of a name is _Brian O' Connor?_" I grumbled.

"Shut up." I stayed silent as we approached the biggest set of gates (actually, the only set of gates) I'd ever seen. Beyond those gates was someone's front lawn, on which a party was being held. People were going in and out of the house like ants as well, so I assumed that was open too. The closer I got to the house, the more I realized I was just being a baby. Although probably half the people at the party were soldiers, I could feel safe, because no one would do something stupid.

Like eavesdrop on the Military's plans.

"You have your ID?" Jean asked. I grinned. I was a genius; I had to be. There was no other explanation for this situation. I was heading to the party in a suit, with the Colonel on my arm in a white dress. From afar, we probably looked like a couple. But that was the point; no one would attend a party alone. At least, that was what my intuition told me. How did I know such things, anyway? I straightened my tie as I neared the gate, noting a group of guests who had just exited an extremely long and black car. Were they VIPs? The other guests were awed by their presence, as though they held power; at least enough to get hold of a limo on an extremely busy day for the company.

I reached into my pocket and checked. The fabricated piece of plastic was still in my pocket, and I shifted uncomfortably as we waited in line to get in. "Yeah, it's there," I replied, scowling.

"Relax. There's going to be other people in there too."

"And I don't know them, so I don't know who to go to for help."

"Well, they know you, and trust me, they'll be far and plenty."

"I see."

From the corner of my eye, I thought I saw somebody watching me. Surprised, I suddenly stepped forward, perhaps a little too close to the female in front of me. 'Sorry," I mumbled as she flashed me a disapproving glare. Stealthily, the Colonel pinched me and shot me a dirty look. "What?" I hissed as the guard stopped me.

"Your ID, please." I fished into my pocket; a practiced motion. I handed the card with my picture over, and he looked it over briefly, before giving it back. "Enjoy your stay." I gulped as I stepped into the enemy's stronghold.

_Into the belly of the beast…._


	8. Reconnaissance

**VIII. Reconnaissance**

Major Armstrong didn't believe in coincidences.

There had been far too many coincidences that day, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. There had been the sudden appearance of the enemy's flagship, which was quite literally, dangled within his reach. All he needed to do was send out his troops to intercept it – which he did. When everything seemed to be falling in place, there had been that transmission from Section 2. It was simple, and heavily encrypted – nothing out of the ordinary, at least, not to the untrained eye. When you enlisted in the military right after school and saw more combat, betrayals, and defeats more than anyone else, you stopped believing in coincidences. You believed in trickery, deception, those sorts of things.

A clean cut man in his late thirties stepped out of a vehicle, handing over his keys, and a few bills to a worker. The boy bowed, and promptly drove the car away. The man was dressed in a sharp white suit; all of it white except for the tie, which was a striking red. He had medium length blonde hair, all of which he combed over to the right side for that slightly wavy yet flat effect.

It was uncomfortable.

The only reason he was here was because he might be able to get some answers. The whole situation then had felt wrong, and he had gone against his gut instinct; he had let the enemy slip when he could have finished them all off, and earned himself a nice pay raise. Honestly, this Leopoldo person could go f*ck himself and drown in his champagne for all he cared, because the only reason he was here was to talk to people. Still, deep down, he knew he had to thank the former General, because if not for him, the Major might never be able to meet the people he wanted to meet, let alone talk to them.

If not for Leopoldo, Marston might not have won.

It would be a tricky process, he thought. Armstrong had to find the men in Section 2, and somewhat _work_ the conversation in the desired direction. Of course, he had to keep up pretenses; politeness, the usual. But he was a blunt man, and it showed in his strategies. An advocate of the "No Replacement for Displacement" belief, he was about as stubborn as they came.

Without even so much as a glance at the security guard, he merely took out his card and showed it to the guard, his footsteps not missing a beat. Once through the gates, he quickly slipped it back into his pocket, and his free hand removed a glass of wine from a passing waitress. These things were free, right?

* * *

"We're in. Now what?"

"Mingle. Listen to what people are saying."

"You know, we could watch the news or something for what the military is planning."

"People can lie."

I stayed silent. Well, there was no arguing that last point. I had done it, the Colonel had done it. But the more I was around her, the more I realized lying was simply embedded in the human gene. Everyone lied at some point in their life; if they didn't, they probably weren't around to tell you. Life was a game of deception, and you had to be careful with everyone you met. Take for example, my little mind games with the Colonel. While I was _strongly_ convinced she was lying about the "melting my body" fiasco, I couldn't simply call her out on it. While she was convinced I was her soldier, I was just looking for the next chance to escape, hence why I agreed to this "mission."

Or so I told myself.

"Wine?" a passing waitress asked us, just as a passing man simply took one off her tray without a second thought. I looked at the man in awe. While there didn't seem to be anything special about him from a glance, he held this quality of regality and control that I didn't know existed. The Colonel and I nodded,, and murmured our gratitude before taking one and moving on.

"Are you old enough to drink?"

"I am, if I'm in here."

"There's children here." I noted some children walking about with their parents, clinging to their side. I paused briefly, watching them. Was I like that at some point? Did someone hold my hand and guide me about? Show me what was wrong and right? I looked to my right at the Colonel.

"Oh."

I took a sip from the glass, noting its strange taste.

* * *

"Armstrong, Old Sport! How've you been?"

A man still in his uniform approached the Major, extending his hand. The Major took it, and was consequently pulled into a hug. Grimacing behind the man's back, he returned to his expression of calm and pleasantness when facing his superior. The man was Admiral Kishimoto, a war veteran. Armstrong had read all about his endeavors as "The Samurai" during the war, remembering how awed he was. A man who only used melee weapons in combat. Such a thought was staggering, yet here this man was, carrying his celebrity like a coat he was willing to dirty.

"Fine, sir. How about you?"

"Just fine, just fine…," he said with a smile, and suddenly raised his glass. "A toast to the Federation's victory?"

Armstrong returned the grin and raised his, tapping it against Kishimoto's. "A toast to the Federation's victory." As he exchanged formalities with this man, he was thinking. How should he go about this? This man was in Section 2; he had to be. But would he know anything about the order? The organization was so damned tight knit that no one knew a damned thing about it. Still, it was worth a try.

Good things come to those who wait.

But fate smiled upon Armstrong, for Kishimoto battered right into the desired topic. "So, Armstrong, what's this I hear about you utterly _annihilating_ the Terrorist force?" He looked almost astonished; but it was the kind of astonished expression one made as if he'd heard something absolutely ridiculous. Taking another sip from his glass, he shrugged.

"Almost finished them," he said with a sigh.

"Oh?" he looked genuinely concerned for the details. "What happened?"

Another sip. "Squad Seven was about to infiltrate their flagship. An order came in from above to retreat. Beats me why…. But they did…," he said with another shrug, as though this were something talked about everyday.

He was silent for a moment. "Where did it come from?" Armstrong locked eyes with the legend and stayed quiet for a moment, his glass held up to his lips.

"Section 2."

The men were silent for a few seconds, before breaking out in laughter.

* * *

"Huh."

"What is it?" I asked, setting my empty glass down on a nearby table.

"They realized what I did."

"What did you do?"

"Remember when the enemy retreated that day you were an idiot?"

"Which day?"

"When you were in the Rushnik."

"Oh, that one. What about it?"

"The enemy retreated."

"Because they knew I was going to kill them."

"No, because I did something."

"What'd you do?"

"Something." I stared at her, frustrated. What was the point of bringing something up if she wasn't going to tell me about it? Curiosity, once sparked was dangerous. Still, I figured it was another one of her mindf*ck things, so I didn't give it another thought.

"Are you sure there's our people here too?"

"Yes, Chen's right there." She pointed to a dark-haired man a few yards away from us, who was chatting up a lovely blonde lady. I looked at the man in surprise. Working for a terrorist organization and picking up babes. I nodded to myself with a dreamy grin.

"Not bad…"

"Shut up." I clamped down as we headed away from the lawn. This was stupid. No one was talking about anything even remotely related to the military. Maybe I wasn't paying attention, but in a setting where you're surrounded by gorgeous women, half expressed for God-knows-what-reason by their dresses, (one of them on my arm), I found I couldn't pay attention. I yawned and sat down on a bench, the Colonel finally letting go of my now-numb arm, and taking a seat as well. I was at a party, right? And the Colonel just said to keep an eye and ear out for stuff. There were no orders against enjoying it.

However, like every other time I had a glimmer of hope, it was shot down; this time in the form of a conversation not too far from me.

* * *

"Are your arms fixed yet?"

"Well, you can't fix what's not there."

"Oh, right…." Rene scowled. She was still mad about that, although she didn't show it. When one thought about it, Rene actually showed very little emotion. Her squadmates didn't notice it, since they were always being silly. Her superiors didn't notice it, because it was what they expected. Her parents never noticed it, because she wasn't like that when they were alive.

Nostalgia is fun.

"Rene, are you still mad at the guy?"

"Somewhat." Brad rolled his eyes.

"You need to loosen up."

"I need to kill that guy." Brad threw his hands up in a sign of mock surrender. Reasoning with her was impossible. Once she set her mind on something, it was impossible to turn her away. Brad had already figured out that the next time she saw that Rushnik, she was going to kill it. Or rather, attempt to destroy it, killing the pilot inside. "If not as part of the mission, then for my pride."

"Your pride?"

"I can't believe he removed my arm."

"Battle wounds happen all the time," Brad said with a shrug. "As a matter of fact, two rounds pierced my leg in that battle. I'm not going to go back there and kill them all just for the hell of it."

"I would."

"You're crazy."

* * *

"You're a good joker, Major."

"I try my best, Admiral." The admiral was still guffawing, holding his sides. Was it really that funny of a joke? Armstrong smiled along to be polite, but it wasn't funny; probably because it really happened. But if the admiral didn't know this and thought it was a joke, then it was a fake message. But maybe Section 2 was hiding it, and Kishimoto was playing along with the gag. In which case, the organization would become shady in Armstrong's eyes. However, Kishimoto's laughter seemed legit, so he supposed he actually thought Armstrong was joking.

"Boy, you _really_ had me going."

"I'm a terrific liar, Admiral."

"Good man. All great men know how to lie."

Somehow, Armstrong felt unnerved by the last statement. All great men knew how to lie? The thought stuck as he bid farewell to the Armstrong and headed back towards the exit. He'd gotten the answer he needed, so there was no more reason to stay. He was seething, though. He'd been fooled by such an old trick, he felt as though he'd be demoted if this got out. Throwing his glass onto the grass in fury, he passed a couple sitting on a bench and sneered. Both had dark black hair, although the woman seemed a wee bit older than the man.

_Women and their boytoys…._ As he tore the couple to shreds in his mind, the Admiral's words came back. _All great men know how to lie._ He smiled and nodded, understanding.

"Indeed they do…"


	9. Confrontation Pt 1

**IX. Confrontation Pt. 1**

"Motherf*ckers!"

There was a loud **clang** as Major Armstrong kicked the garbage can across his office. It cut through the air in a parabolic trajectory, before hitting the wall and falling to the ground. To say the least, the man was seething. His secretary looked quite taken aback, although she didn't say anything; her eyes merely widened, and she tensed up a little. The Major was a short tempered man – everyone knew this. "I had them _right in my hand,_ and they used the f*cking oldest trick in the book!" He punched a vase off its display, its contents spilling onto the carpeted floor. The glass object shattered, and cut an awkward silence into the air.

"And I fell for it." The room was silent, save the occasional footsteps outside, and the chattering. The hum of the Veritas' engines droned quietly, blending in with the background. So accustomed to the sound was Armstrong, that he now failed to notice it. To him, it was the same as being on a base on the ground.

"What do you propose we do?" the secretary asked nervously.

He turned to her with a blank expression, thinking. It was a strange sight – one of the highest ranking men in the military dressed in a simple suit. He'd gotten back from the party a few days ago, and he hadn't showered or changed since he'd gotten back. Armstrong had merely stayed shut in his office until the secretary came by, and that was when he flew into a rage. The Major was a bloody mess – his suit was half undone, the tie simply dangling around his neck. Everything was crumpled, since he slept in it – the shoes were soiled, their value reduced to a fraction of what it once was.

So was his pride.

"We find them and destroy them," he whispered.

* * *

"What are you doing?"

A bald man sitting at a display looked up at me. "Oh, it's you," he said blankly, as though he were expecting me. The two of us were currently alone in a small room. In front of us was a large window pane – behind it, the main hangar. It was a sort of mission control, I supposed. I'd only been in here once, and that was during the tour I paid no attention to.

"I'm tuning your Rushnik." I squinted at the stream of data flooding the screen. How the hell did anyone understand that? I couldn't even read fast enough to comprehend one byte of data. I didn't even understand what he meant by "tuning." Was it repairing, perhaps?

"Oh," I said, as though I understood. I looked out at the hangar. There were lines of the small light blue model, and in the midst of them, my silver one. It was an eyesore, I thought, look how much it stood out. But I couldn't do anything about it. But it really bothered me. And for some reason, I remembered the line, "individuality is good," but I couldn't confirm if this was true.

"You don't know what that means, do you?"

"How could you tell?" I asked in surprise.

"Usually, when I'm doing this, someone comes by and tells me their preferences."

"I'm good with anything."

"That's why I knew you didn't know what it meant."

I shuffled uncomfortably, and pretended to inspect my Rushnik. The condition was immaculate. What was there to change? Give it some guns, sure, but somewhere in my mind, I kept thinking, "More swords." Perhaps it was more fun – I felt as though using guns and gunning someone down from afar was inhuman. There was little effort involved – perhaps in the aiming, but otherwise, it was a simple task. Maybe I was oversimplifying it in my head – it had to be a lot harder than that. "Then what does it mean?" I asked, distracted by something far down the hangar.

"I'm changing some programming so that your machine is more efficient. For example, your Sonic Boomer is a bit overpowered for that-"

"Sonic Boomer?"

"The backpack, jet pack… whatever you want to call it."

"The things on its back?"

"Yeah, that."

"Go on…" He scowled in annoyance, but continued anyway. "Your Rushnik can't fully use all of the Sonic Boomer's power, so I'm scaling the power down to improve efficiency." I blinked. What did that mean? I wasn't sure if I needed to know all this. I had only asked because he seemed annoyed at my ignorance.

"Okay," I said, nodding. Before he could say something else, I pointed to the far end of a hangar, at a black Mechnaught. "What's that over there?" Baldie turned to where I was pointing, and smirked, shaking his head.

"You have ways to go before you even look at one of those, kid." I scowled. Was he mocking me, or was that machine seriously so crazy, I wasn't even allowed to look at it? The thing was very subtle, yet attention grabbing, and I wanted to see it closer up, against Baldie's wishes. Slowly, I walked towards the exit, before making my way down the stairs to the hangar, and making my way to the far end of the hangar.

_Christ._ It was a monstrosity by all standards. And I thought mine was crazy. This one just looked pure _insane._ Baldie had been right – I wasn't ready to look at this. It was very angular and boxy in parts, yet the legs were round in parts. Perhaps what disturbed me the most was the head – painted all black and inactive, there was no color except for gray and black, save the yellow points on the head. But the "mouth" was what got me – there was what appeared to be rows of teeth, like a shark, curled upwards in a devilish grin.

"You don't listen very well, do you?"

I turned to face Baldie, who had followed me out here, walking casually with his hands in his pockets. "I'm a slow learner," I replied.

"It's the Colonel's," he suddenly said, motioning to the atrocity before us. I blinked. Now that I thought about it, it made sense. Both wore black as their primary color, and both were scary when you got down to it. "She doesn't bring it out a lot, though."

"Does it have a name?"

"She calls it Anubis." _The Egyptian God of Death._ It certainly looked like a death bringer, but I saw no resemblance to the Egyptian deity which it was named after. "It's actually an SW-001 with modifications."

"It's beautiful," I breathed. "Do you have anymore of these?"

Baldie scoffed. "We lost an arm and a leg just getting _that one,_" he said with a laugh.

* * *

"Colonel, the enemy base is attempting to contact us."

Jean Smith smiled as she turned to face the large screen. "Put it up."

A robotic voice reverberated throughout the control room. _"This is a restricted airzone. You have five minutes to turn in a different direction, surrender, or offer your identification for clearance."_ The Colonel looked blankly at the screen briefly, before shaking her head slowly. No chance they were going to do any of those things. They were headed this way on purpose, for the purpose of raiding the enemy base. It was a risky move, but given the small army the base had, and the vast supplies it had, the payout seemed large enough to make the risk worth it

"Ignore it. Send all crew to their battle positions, and send C, K, and R units out in S-Formation. The rest of the units will remain on standby."

"Even yours?" The Colonel looked at her soldier. It had been a long time since she'd been asked that, but now she had the itch to enter the battlefield. She would never do so if she could help it, but just in case…

"Sure. Power it up and set priority to Jean Smith, but leave it at that."

"Yes ma'am."

Leaning back comfortably in her seat, she pushed a button and the hologram appeared on the ceiling again. Units were pouring out of their ship, a large green dot. _So it begins._ As she watched the dots fly about, she wondered if Zero was one of them. The Colonel got the feeling he was a little mad at her, since their little excursion to the party had been less than fruitful. _He must feel as though we put our lives at risk for nothing._ She smiled as she watched her troops cut a hole in the enemy's defense.

Or was there something he wasn't telling her?

**

* * *

WOOP WOOP WOOP**

The Major snapped awake, looking around. There was an alarm going off in his ship. But why? He felt nothing violent going on around him. Standing to his feet with great effort, he stumbled about, searching for his intercom. _Where's the damn secretary when you need her?_ He grimaced as he felt the button embedded onto his desk, and spoke. "Ms. Sampson. What's going on?"

She seemed flustered, as though too much was happening at once. "Oh, thank God. The troops were freaking out-"

"What's the situation?"

"Base 510 is under attack. They're asking for our he-"

"By who?"

"Genesis." His eyes narrowed, and his hands curled into fists at the mention of that word. Falling silent for a moment so he could think, he closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead.

"Are we close to them?"

"Yes, maybe fifty miles away. In fact, I think if you look out your window, you might be able to see it…" Armstrong didn't bother looking. He had all the information he needed.

"Thanks, Betty. Make yourself a cup of coffee, and one for me. Make sure it's still warm when I get back."

"Where are you going?" But he was no longer there, having left his room, the door sliding shut behind him.

* * *

"Let's move, move, move!"

Alarms were blaring again, and I found myself in the midst of chaos. At least, that's what it looked like to me. Soldiers filled the hangar, all rushing into their mechnaughts. What was going on? Were we attacked again? I looked from Baldie to the alarms, and back to Baldie, as though asking for advice on what to do. "What's going on?" I asked.

"There's going to be a fight."

"A big one?"

"Looks like it." I thought for a bit. I suddenly wanted to fight in the Rushnik again. With luck, I might even be able to face those bastards who refused to even look at me last time. Biting my lower lip for a moment, I thought about it, weighing the pros and cons. Although the cons far outweighed the pros, I found myself to be an irrational person, doing erratic things on a whim. Take now, for instance.

I suddenly dashed off towards my silver machine and climbed inside, shutting the cockpit. There was a dull hmm as the systems went active, the screens flashing on. The same login screen flicked onto the screen, and I hurriedly typed the information in, gaining full access. I thought I heard someone outside yelling, "Stop," but I couldn't be sure over the sounds of the machines. Wasting no time, I licked my lips and dashed off to the open doors, squeezing between two mechnaughts on my way out. Leaping into thin air, I let gravity take over as I dove into battle yet again.

"Is my Zeeker ready?"

"Yes, sir. We've just finished minor maintenances."

"Everything works fine?"

"Beautifully."

The Major clapped his gloved hands together as he stepped into his personal hangar. "Excellent." His mechnaught was waiting for him, hatch open, and systems active. The machine was a glorious one – a high mobility model based off West Palamo's "HellFire," the Zeeker was currently the second fastest mass-production model in the world, (second to the flimsy "Aerobolts") but even then, production was limited, since the things were so damned expensive. To back up its speed, it had to pack weapons: they came in the form of two Particle Beams attached to the waist in addition to the Planet Eagle A's in the hands.

Aesthetically? It was beautiful, holding a very aristocratic feel to it, while keeping its aggressive looks nicely. The colors were a mix of white, gold, orange and gray – now the colors of the high ranked pilots. With a smirk, he slipped a helmet on over his crumpled suit, and hopped into the hatch, having it close behind him.

"Let's move out, boys. Squad Seven will intercept the enemies. Eight and nine will circle around and flank them from both directions. Six will accompany me to attack the flagship. The rest will remain on standby until reinforcements are called for."

_"Sir, yes sir!"_

As he walked his Zeeker over to the catapult, he pushed the comm. Unit again and added something. "Another thing. If you get any orders from 'Section 2…,'" he paused and smiled. _Just covering all my bases here._

"Ignore them."

**

* * *

Boom!**

Another mechnaught exploded as I ran right past it, swords blazing. They were the only weapons I had, sadly. I realized the bald man really had told me to "stop," probably because he hadn't given it any other weapons yet. But it was okay, I thought. I could still keep this up. The enemy's troops seemed easy – too easy. Were they outdated models, or something? After several shots were fired at me at sporadic intervals, I came to the conclusion that I was fighting piss-poor pilots, or AI, neither of which interested me. I wanted those bastards who had mechs similar to mine. With a roar, I cut down two more in rapid succession, escaping the area with dazzling speed before I could be caught in the explosion.

_"Warning. Enemy locked on."_ A little surprised, I turned around, scowling. I'd forgotten how annoying that voice could be. However, something very familiar filled my view – It was a mechnaught similar to mine, emblazoned with the number 23.

"What do we have here?" I whispered with a grin as I blocked the enemy's sword.

"YOU!"

Rene was filled with fury at the sight of the Rushnik. Not only was the pilot picking on drones and Pinketts, but he seemed to be having the time of his life. With a startling realization, she realized his style was remarkably similar to hers – the dance of death, so up close and personal…. It was also at that point she realized how much she wanted to kill the man, and boosted right at him, Particle Sword blazing.

"You're mine!" she yelled into the comm. unit, attempting to provoke the pilot. However, since she'd gotten no response last time, she wasn't expecting one this time. But to her surprise, it buzzed to life in reply.

_"Look what the cat dragged in…"_ Before the sentence was finished, Rene's Stallion was suddenly pushed violently backwards, and she stomped the booster, stabilizing herself. She stopped, screeching to a stop on the metallic surface of the ground. But she had been careless, and forgotten that her enemy was less than fair – his silver machine filled her screens, and she quickly brought her Force Shield up, blocking the blow with a shower of sparks. However, her eyes widened as she saw a second flash of pink – she'd also forgotten that the enemy dual wielded swords. With a yelp, she brought her other sword up to parry, only to have it knocked out of her Stallion's hands.

_"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"_

Acting quickly, she boosted backwards as the enemy swung the sword a second time, cutting the air where she was a second before. _Crap. No weapons…._ Removing a Beam-Spitter from her mechnaught's waist, she let off a spray of energy blasts as she attempted to fend off the enemy until she had time to gather her thoughts and formulate her plan. But the Rushnik moved with surreal speed, aided by the booster on its back. _If only my Sentinel could keep up with that thing…_

_"Gotcha!"_

Seeing an opportunity, she suddenly let go of the trigger, and tossed the gun to the side. Her heart racing, she dove for her sword, and scooped it up as her mechnaught rolled on the ground, the metal groaning andf sparks flying. By the time she'd turned to face him, he was already on top of her, ready to deal the finishing blow. With a grin, she smiled and pushed the trigger, activating the sword.

_No, I got you._

* * *

"Colonel, there's something weird…"

The Colonel looked from the hologram to her lieutenant, who was manning one of the computers. "What is it?" The blonde pointed to the hologram, at one region in particular. One by one, in rapid succession, units were being labeled as "lost," while gray unidentified units advanced past the fallen. Raising an eyebrow in apprehension, she stood up out of her seat and squinted. Was she seeing right?

"Something is coming from the southeast. I think it might be the high-mobility type."

"Christ." She simply stared as the gray dots moved towards the big green dot with frightening speed. Perhaps what was even scarier was that her "K" squad had more or less been annihilated in less than a minute. Unable to watch any longer, she turned to leave, but there was a beeping sound as a transmission attempted to come through.

"Colonel, the Major is on the line. He wants a duel." An expression of fear was replaced by a smile as Jean considered it. So that's who it was. Were they so frustrated by their "loss" last time that their leader was coming to _personally_ do the job? She grinned and nodded slowly.

"I accept."

"So they accepted my offer…"

The Major smirked as he waited for the enemy's leader to come out. This was too easy – it really was. Once he took out their leader, Genesis would collapse. Like a game of chess, all Armstrong needed to do was remove the King. After that, it was over. He had no doubt in his mind that he was going to win. And even if he didn't… He looked at his screens as the six Ballistika mechs behind him. That was why he had backup. "I want no one interrupting this fight. Understand?"

_"Yes sir."_ Of course, everyone understood it to be the equivalent of, "Don't help me until I start getting my a$s kicked."

_There it is…._ Major Armstrong watched as a black mechnaught, followed by four blue ones left the ship. His heart skipped a beat as he realized what the black one was. He leaned in closer to the screen, making sure he wasn't seeing wrong. _A SideWinder?! How the HELL did they get one?_ The SideWinder was Marston's newest mechnaught, also the most balanced. Given its nature, it was incredibly rare, since the alloys that made it so strong yet light and fast were hard to process. The Maverik booster it was paired with was also rare, given that the two were often made together.

"I have to destroy it." If it wasn't in Marston's hands, it needed to be destroyed. Here was Major Amrstrong's brilliant and straightforward logic. With a scoff, the Major replaced his Planet Eagles with the Beam Sabers, igniting them in a brilliant shade of pink. But when he saw the SideWinder's choice of weapons, he had to stop and stare for a moment. _Annhilators._ The SideWinder drew its blades, snapping them into attack mode. The blades glowered aggressively in pink, just yearning to burn something.

Then the Major burst forward, his Sentinel roaring as it propelled him to his foe. Retracting his arm, he prepared to swing, opting to make the first move. His enemy did the same, dashing off at him, and swinging the sword. There was a loud clap, like a strike of thunder, as the two made contact, stopping short in midair. As if on cue to the start of the clash of the titans, it began to rain, the cloudy skies above them unable to handle the tension.

_Rain? My visibility is shot. Good thing I can see the blades._ With a grunt, he pushed the enemy off him, and boosted back to gain some distance. The effect was immediate, for soon, he found himself far from the enemy. However, the enemy was aggressive – more aggressive than him. With a roar of its own, the SideWinder boosted at him, though not as quickly – the Maverik was designed for less EN Drain and longer boost, but not incredible speed.

"DIE!" Armstrong cried as he boosted right back into the fray.


	10. Confrontation Pt 2

**X. Confrontation Pt. 2**

_Jesus!_

There was a **bzz** below me, and I suddenly yanked my controls to the left, boosting away from my victim. I saw a thin line of pink where I would have been had I not done what I did. My heart pounding, I wiped a drop of sweat off my forehead. That had been close. Too close. I'd gotten careless, I realized. I'd forgotten that the pilot was driven by pride and revenge, whereas I was motivated by "fun." It wasn't all too fun – Maybe I mistook this adrenaline rush as enjoyable. Whatever the case, I was suddenly struck by the reality that I could be killed, and my death would be insignificant.

The Stallion got up and turned to face me, and I swallowed. Was she royally pissed? _"You got lucky there…,"_ the pilot hissed, and I heard a sharp **click** as she boosted right at me. Grunting, I slammed my booster as well, and took off into the air, making this battle an aerial one. She chased after me, taking into the air herself. I smirked as my fear began to slip, and the desire to enjoy the fight returned. _Very well._

**BZRT!**

Our swords collided as we swung them into each other. Sometime during the clash, it hit me that this was more a battle of willpower than skill. In that case… I tried the same trick, jerking my free arm, attempting to swing the blade of death into her core. But her shield came up to block my blade again. It was at this point I smiled maliciously, putting my plan into place. She had foreseen my slice – I would give her that. But she wasn't foreseeing this. I clicked the trigger and shut off the blade – I was now holding a handle. Do you see where I'm going with this? Rapidly moving my hand and pointing my handle at her head, I reignited the blade.

**BZRT!**

Sparks and flews flew everywhere as my sword pierced the Stallion's angular head, turning it into a mass of scrap metal. It occurred to me that I should have aimed for the core, thus killing her, but in the heat of the moment, I had been too cocky, and taken the ultimate prize of any duel – the head. There was a yell from the other side of the line as she yelled in fury, realizing she had lost yet again to me. With a smirk, I proceeded to swing my blade down, finishing the fight. Again, sparks flew as my sword made contact with the core. However, being that this was a thicker material, and I hadn't had any time to swing my arm back for more momentum, I began the arduous process of burning through the alloy to get to her.

**KRSHK!**

My sword was knocked back, as was my entire mech. There was a flash of gray, and I jumped back involuntarily, my instincts saving my life. I growled as I looked at the HUD. Who the Hell would interrupt our little duel? To my surprise, it was an exact same unit as the one I was just fighting, only it was wielding a spear instead of a sword. To be honest, it didn't exactly look like a spear. My initial impression was that his mechnaught was holding a giant drill – there were enormous metal spikes starting from the handle to the tip. Under the handle and protruding behind was what appeared to be a battery. Did that thing actually spin?

_Not looking too good. Two on one…._

* * *

"Do you know how angry I am right now?!"

The Major was speaking to the pilot of the SideWinder as they fought, attempting to distract her. At this point, he didn't know it was a woman yet. But I suppose even if he had known, it wouldn't have made a difference to him. Genesis had caused him far too much embarrassment, and he would see to it that they were eliminated. Which was why he had come out personally this time. With a yell, he swung both swords down in a brilliant flash of pink, attempting to cut the cursed thing to pieces.

But the pilot of the SideWinder would have none of that, bringing just _one_ arm up to block the blades. The left arm's Annihilator retracted, covering the forearm, and the result was the parrying of the Major's blow. The pilot of the SideWinder must have been smiling, for suddenly, she thrust out with her other Annhilator, attempting to take the Zeeker's arm off. "Sh*t!" the Major cried as he attempted to turn out of the way. But the damage was done. There was a loud **krshk!** as a section of his left arm was removed by the superheated blade. A small alarm began to sound in his cockpit, and a display on his right showed his arm blinking red. Sparks flew out of the hole in the Zeeker's arm, and his hand limped out, the sable deactivating, the saber falling heads over heels to the surface.

_Damn! My left arm is more or less useless!_ He noted the way his arm simply flailed about as he boosted back, looking in shock at the gaping and glowing hole the Annihilator had left. _"Sir! Should we-"_

"Hold your positions!"

Boosting back to put a little distance between them, he tried to think. Whoever the pilot was, he was good. And it wasn't just the SideWinder's innate abilities. That had been an excellent move before, possible only because of the Major's blunder, and the characteristics of the Annihilator. But there was a problem – the pilot wasn't giving him any time to react. Eyes widening as the black demon grew larger and larger in his screen, he put up his sword, parrying the first strike. However, he had no weapon to block the other. The result was a sickening crunch, after which, his Zeeker felt noticeably lighter. A quick glance at his screen revealed the same arm now a dull gray, labeled "Error."

_So he finished the job…._

**

* * *

KRSHK! KRSHK!**

Jean had him on the defensive now, and she was enjoying every second of it. She was toying with him now, alternating left and right strikes to keep him on his toes. The man must have been on his toes now, swinging desperately, his body working faster than his mind to keep up. But there comes a point where you grow bored of the game, and you feel like ending it. That time was now, and before anyone could even register what had happened, there was a loud crack.

If you froze time and took a step back to look, it would perhaps be one of the greatest scenes. The Zeeker's back was arched, exposing its core, while the right arm was raised, its sword blocking one of the Annihilators. Embedded in the exposed chest was the other blade, the SideWinder still gripping it. All cues and positioning pointed to the same conclusion: The SideWinder stabbed the Zeeker. Sparks were coming out various places in the Zeeker now. In a hurry, the SideWinder retracted its limbs and boosted back, avoiding the ensuing explosion.

_"MAJOR!"_

**

* * *

Boom!**

Above them, an explosion flared, sending flames and debris in every direction. In addition to the fluids falling from the sky, rain also came in the form of metal chunks, and if Rene saw correctly, human limbs. She shuddered at the thought, but realized it was an everyday occurrence. But what was more surprising was the man who'd come to her rescue. Emblazoned with the number 7, she knew who it was before she even saw the number. _"You alright there, Prviate?"_ Brad's voice buzzed over the intercom. Rene gave a small sigh of relief before replying.

"How is it you always come in the nick of time?"

_"Luck, I guess."_ She could see his smirk just from his voice. _"You look pretty banged up. Is this guy good?"_ Rene's head suddenly felt wet, and she realized rain was leaking into the cockpit. _Oh my God._ She realized that if Brad hadn't come, she would have been burned to death. A horrible way to die.

"I'm good."

_"Head back. You're in no condition to fight."_ Before she knew it, Andrew and Terry had landed next to her, and she could feel her Stallion leaving the ground. She didn't reply, or attempt to resist. The man had really beaten her this time. All she could do was hope Brad made it back safely. She smiled to herself and closed her eyes, crossing her fingers.

* * *

"Well, well…."

I whispered the words to myself as I watched two units take the damaged one away. Apparently, they had spoken amongst themselves briefly before agreeing to let this guy… numbered 7 take me on. The blue mechnaught turned and faced me, force shield and spear in hand. Really now. Was he going to kill me with that? I almost laughed – the thing just looked so damn ridiculous. But my opinion of it would change soon.

Without warning, the Stallion suddenly burst off at me, the spear whining. The visual effect amplified by the rain, I watched in awe as rain was turned out of the way, and for a second, I saw the brief optical illusion of a tornado heading towards me. But I soon snapped out of it and jumped out of the way, letting the drill pierce the wall behind me. There was a loud **crash** and an explosion, the wall crumbling under the power. My jaw fell. _Monstrous power._

But he had left an opening.

Seizing the opportunity for a quick finishing blow, I swerved behind him, every fiber of my body and every part on my Rushnik intending to stab through his core with my blades. But he was impossibly fast, spinning around, dragging the spinning spear against the ground. The result was an ear piercing shriek as metal grinded against metal, and the ground was ripped apart. Shards of metal and dirt flew up at me, their weight increased by the rain. I boosted backwards from the strange attack, narrowly avoiding the bits of metal he'd thrown up. _"What's wrong, tough guy?"_ The pilot spoke to me. It was a man.

As if it made an difference.

Angered by his cocky attitude and choice of words, I boosted at him, my Sonic Boomer roaring. I had no guns, but that was okay. All he had was his sh*tty spear, and even sh*ttier shield. All I had to do was rid him of one or the other, and he would be done. I thrust one blade at him, aimed towards the center as I boosted forward, my other arm cocked back to slice.

**KRSHK!** I was suddenly facing the sky, still boosting. Below me, there was another loud crash as he slammed the spear into the wall. I was confused what had just happened. I had been aiming for his center, and…. His shield. I smiled as I realized what a smart man he was. But it was also a tad scary. He'd used my speed to his advantage, deflecting me upwards with his shield, then flanking me. However, I had been lucky, and he missed. In other words, I had escaped death purely by luck.

But this experience taught me a few things about to fight this man. The spear was an enormous object by any standard – such a weapon meant it left enormous openings after striking. From what I remembered, the window of opportunity between thrusts was roughly five seconds. Less, since this man seemed to be so damned fast.

"You're wide open!" I yelled as I dove down, both sabers ready to stab down into the Stallion. However, there was yet another **crash,** and I was thrown to the side, my Rushnik crashing into a wall, denting it. With wide eyes, I dodged to the side as he flew in at me, spear screaming. Yet again, there was an explosion as the wall exploded from the force. However, here was the opportunity I'd wanted. _No escape now._ Rather than go right to him, I instead reeled back my left arm and tossed the saber like a javelin. Would the trick work twice? Was someone going to shoot it out of the air again?

**Clank!**

It didn't work, I thought with a tinge of disappointment. But the feeling was quickly gone, for I boosted in for the kill. However, the saber never made it to its target – the man had thrust his spear at the sword, and low and behold, had hit it dead on. The sword was knocked flipping back before planting itself into the ground, handle up for anyone to grab. But there was no time for regret. With another yell, I lunged at him, sword blazing, while he continued the spear thrust, curving around to hit me.

**KRSHK. KRSHK.**

_"Damage to left arm."_ A voice rang in my cockpit, and I groaned. This was it. I was finished. However, there was no explosion, and after a second, I looked up at my HUD, my jaw dropping again.

A lucky man. That's what I was.

From the handle of my saber was a line of glowering pink which extended to the core of the Stallion. To get there, it had pierced the centerpiece of his force shield, which was now flickering erratically. I smiled to myself. I'd won. But sparks flew out of the hole I made, and before I knew it, there was a blinding explosion, which tossed my Rushnik and I off our feet. My mechnaught landed violently with me still inside. The ride was bumpy, but I wasn't aware of it, because after the first impact, I was already out cold.

* * *

"Attack! Finish off the remaining six!"

_"Yes ma'am!"_

The Colonel smiled as she dashed off at the bluish gray units. _Ballistikas, eh? Makes no difference._ With a dignified smirk, she boosted off towards the nearest one, and before the pilot even had time to raise his Marauder, she'd already cut the rifle in half, before spinning once, and stabbing the core. Her Mehki support units were staying out of the rifles' range, their Destroyer Cannons doing the trick from afar, while she did the dirty work.

**BOOM!** Another fell as it was blown up attempting to dodge – its legs had been blown off before the rest of the mechnaught followed suit. One by one, the Ballistikas were slaughtered, half of them stabbed or sliced, the other half blown to bits. _Inexperienced kids playing with heavy gear._ Jean felt a bit of pity for the pilots as she retracted her Annihilators and turned to face her Mehkis, motioning for them to return. They had been dragged into his fight by their foolish commander. After their master had fallen, it was logical that they should surrender, or run away. But they believed in strength in numbers, and that was where their (and the world's) logic was severely flawed.

Sliced or blown up. Which end would you have preferred?


	11. Purple Heart

**XI. Purple Heart**

Rene sat on her bed, inspecting a small object.

She hadn't realized it at the time, but her arm was broken during the fight. But her adrenaline had numbed the pain, and she'd carried on with the fight. _I blame myself…._ For being weak. For being unable to beat that man. For being careless.

For being unable to defend Brad.

The list of blames just flowed through her head with no end in sight. In Rene's hands was a small purple heart, given to her a few hours ago by a CO. The conversation had been brief, but the situation required brevity, for the Major's funeral ceremony was in a few hours. _"In recognition of your valor and bravery during battle, as well as your willingness to risk your flesh and blood to defend your comrades, you are awarded this Purple Heart."_ She'd accepted the small object (not like she couldn't), but she knew what it was. _Strictly constructed bullsh*t._ It was more or less a verbose way of saying, "You were hurt in battle, so you get this award to show off how bada$s you are."

There was a knock on her door, and with great effort, she sat up in her bed, her left arm hurting. It was currently in a sling, and she couldn't use it to support herself. Flexing the muscles gained during training, she sat up on her bed and turned to her door. "Come in."

Her squad mates looked into her room. They no longer carried the cheery atmosphere from before, and they donned black suits – all of them. There were only two guesses where they were going. _Either the Major's, or Brad's._ "You coming?" they asked. From the looks of it, they were heading to the former. Rene offered a polite smile and shook her head.

"No, I'm good."

* * *

"You there?"

There was something hitting my face, and I groaned, turning my head to the side. Although the surface I was laid out on was neither comfortable or warm, I didn't want to wake up. But then, there was a loud **smack!** as someone's palm connected with my cheekbone, and I gasped, eyes snapping open. Holding the side of my face, I turned to look at the assailant. "What the hell was that?!"

"You've been out for a few hours, kid." I groaned again, rubbing my eyes as I propped myself up onto my elbows. The floor was metallic and cold, and I pulled away, standing up. My face stung, and the sensation was oddly familiar. With a start, I realized the Colonel was right in front of me, her gloved hand at the ready.

"What's going on?" There were people moving boxes and such, and the mechs I saw before were now walking one by one towards the Aegis. From what I understood, I was in some kind of hangar, although this one didn't seem to be floating in the air. I suddenly remembered the explosion before I passed out.

"We're taking the supplies and leaving in a few hours," Jean answered, looking out at the busy troops. In a corner were some personnel of the robbed base, stood against the wall with their hands behind their heads. It was a little scary when it was people facing people, I realized, but I ignored the thought as I stretched out. Wait, if there had been an explosion, then-

"Your Rushnik is heavily damaged," she said, apparently reading my mind. I frowned. How damaged did that mean? I recalled the computer telling me the arm was damaged, but I had been hit with a spear… "The crew is putting a new arm on it as we speak. Your booster is also damaged. The rest is just beat up, but nothing bad." So I was short an arm, and I couldn't boost.

**Thump.**

I was suddenly on the floor, a sharp pain in the back of my knee. "Ow! Wha-"

"You think you're special or something? Go help with the supplies."

_

* * *

I'm sorry._

Rene stood in the midst of a small crowd at the funeral procession. Brad hadn't been high ranking enough to merit a fancy funeral ceremony or anything. And so, his family had paid for a private one, and she had made sure troops would come to fire off six shots. There was something horribly wrong with the world, she realized. The higher ups were rewarded regardless of what they did, and the lower class were sh*t on constantly. But it was a cycle she knew she couldn't escape, and so, she played along with it.

There was a priest murmuring something she couldn't hear. She was too busy looking at the coffin. It was empty, she thought. Everyone knew it. She knew it. The priest knew it. Even the grass knew it. But she reasoned that his soul was probably inside the wooden trap, and the thought gave her comfort. She read the tombstone. _"Chief Master Sergeant Bradley Rivers: 2220 – 2247: Live by the blade, die by the blade."_ She smirked at his title. _Raised two ranks in death. Congratulations._ Something wet rolled down her cheek, and she quickly brushed it away.

Rene watched as the coffin was lowered into the plot. The skies were dark – as dark as the day he'd died, and it threatened to rain again, emulating the conditions under which he died. Sure enough, it began to drizzle, at first, the droplets merely sticking to the black coat she wore over her black suit. But then, it began to pour, and the coat became soaked through, after which, the moisture began working its way into her suit as well. But while everyone else took out their umbrellas and hid from the rain, she stayed put, not moving an inch. There was a **plink!** as one drop in particular hit her nametag and the Purple Heart under it. Almost subconsciously, she moved her right hand over her chest and removed the Heart, fidgeting with it as the Priest finished his speech.

_"…May he rest in peace. Amen."_

And now, a moment of silence.

The coffin was slowly and deliberately lowered into its plot. As it was being done, she heard some sobbing, and realized a lady, presumably his mother, was crying. People were leaving now,not wanting to overstay their welcome. Or perhaps it was because they had the Major's funeral to go to next. Or maybe they had come here out of politeness, not because they really cared about the dead soldier. Six shots rang through the air in rapid succession, making people around her jump. But Rene was tuned out of the world now, simply staring hollowly at the plot that was being slowly filled with dirt.

_Dear Brad,_

_There's a lot I wanted to tell you. And it's very wrong of me to say this, but now that you're gone, it's a lot easier to tell you. I remember a lot of things, from the time I first joined the Military to the time of your death. I remember it clearly, and in case you've forgotten, I'll tell you about the time we first met. I was a Private (I'm First Class now, but it makes little difference), still wet behind the ears with nervous sweat when I was assigned to your squad. I don't know what it was about you, but I didn't like you at first. Perhaps it was your cocky attitude. I had grown up around boys who had big mouths and little balls, so I was accustomed to it by then, but you have to understand, having an arrogant CO is pretty annoying._

_Time passed, and I didn't feel any closer to the crew, anyone else, or even myself for that matter. You see, my family died a few years ago in a crossfire between the army and Genesis. I suppose it was this incident, and several other events, that caused me to join up. Driven by revenge, I distanced myself from everyone for one purpose – to eradicate Genesis. I won't bore you with the details of my ambition, but if you've been wondering – for any reason – why I seem like a cold person, this is why. I'm not, Brad. I'm really not. I like to think I'm one of the kinder people in the world._

_There was also that time you first asked me to eat lunch with you. Rather, you didn't ask – you merely sat down in front of me and started talking to me. I found it strange, but at the same time, I was again used to it, since I had attended high school before this. Heh. I guess I'm the one getting a little arrogant now. But you started talking to me, and I realized you were a good person. But I said little in reply, using my meal as a shield, and leaving as quickly as I could. But you followed, and it was then and there I felt the first signs of what I feel now._

_You didn't really do the same thing after that. Perhaps you took my lack of response as a sign of no interest. A foolish move on my part – I realized later. But the gravity of the situation didn't hit me until you invited me to your wedding. I remember choking up when I saw the invitation. It felt as though something important were snatched from me a second time, and I damn near tore the invitation to pieces. But I reasoned with myself, and came to the conclusion that it was my fault. Only mine. With a heavy heart, I replied, stating I'd attend, while regretting it._

_I remember your wife. In fact, she's here as I speak to you, standing with her mother in law, a few yards away, sniffling quietly under an umbrella. You did well, Brad. She's beautiful, and she looks like she earnestly cares about you. But it was due to her (in part) that I never tried to reconcile with you or the rest of Squad Seven. I'm not placing blame on anyone – just facts. Or rather, statements that register themselves as facts in my mind._

_I'm a horrible person, I know I am._

_Something wet is rolling down my face – streams of it. There is something good about the rain, I suppose. Should someone pass you as you're doing what I'm doing right now, they'll merely conclude that it's the result of the rain. I don't know why I'm telling you this now, when I should have done this a long time ago, but there's a simple but heavy statement I have to get off my chest._

_I love you._

_I said it. I love you. I feel a lot about you – I'm scared of you at times, I envy you most of the time, and I respect you all the time. But most of all, I love you. I wish I could have told you this before you went to the other side. Maybe things would have turned out differently. Maybe not. Perhaps it's better this way. But above all of even that, __**I'm sorry.**_

_I'm sorry I disobeyed orders at times. I'm sorry I gave the squad a hard time. I'm sorry for not saying "thanks" that time you gave me a jacket when it was cold. I'm sorry I couldn't kill that guy in the Rushnik. I'm sorry I let you take my place._

_I'm sorry I let you die._

_If I wasn't so weak, you wouldn't have needed to come to my aid._

_There's little I can offer in repentance. I'm not especially smart, and as the incident proved, not exceptionally skilled either. I'm told I'm beautiful, but you've already chosen someone far more beautiful – inside and out. I have nothing to offer._

_Except my heart. I'm tossing something down there to make you feel perhaps a little less lonely. It comes in the form of a small purple heart they should have given to you. It's also stuffed with my feelings and thoughts. I have nothing to offer except my heart._

_It's yours, my love. It's yours._

_Goodbye._


	12. Training Day

**XII. Training Day**

"You're being promoted."

Rene stiffened. "What?"

The Captain of the Veritas looked down at her small figure. "Don't make me repeat myself, Private." He cleared his throat. "Or rather, _Master Sergeant Rene Shin._" Without warning, Captain James Marshall reached out and gingerly, yet quickly removed her nametag, replacing it with another one. Looking down at the new object, she squinted. Sure enough, it now read, "Master Sergeant Rene Shin." She looked up at her Captain, a little confused.

"What is this for?" she asked, suspicious.

"As you may know, Technical Sergeant Bradley Rivers recently passed away."

"So I'm replacing him."

"The dead can't be replaced, but if it makes you feel any better, you will be in charge of Squad Seven from now on. There's also going to be a new recruit among you." From out of nowhere, or rather, from behind the Captain stepped a young man donned in a uniform. His brown hair was disheveled, and it looked as though he hadn't shaved for weeks. There were also bags under his eyes, giving him a ghastly appearance.

"It's… nice to meet you, Sergeant." He extended his hand, and she grasped it briefly, not even enough time for a handshake.

The Captain clapped the recruit on the back. "Fresh out of basic training." _I can see that,_ she thought with a slight look of disgust. It wasn't that the man was disgusting – far from it: It was just that the memory of her time in basic training brought up thoughts she'd rather not think about. The term "basic" was a misnomer. It was anything but "basic," given that you were prepared for virtually all weather conditions, and battle situations. She particularly remembered the "sub-zero survival program," and shivered involuntarily. It had been Hell, albeit a much cooler one. "Give him a little time to recuperate," he added with a laugh, and he was off.

"Captain," she suddenly said, causing him to turn around. "I don't think I'm the best choice…. There's Wilson-" But she was silenced when he suddenly clapped both of his gloved hands on her shoulders, smiling. His smile had a strange quality in it, as though he were mocking you, at the same time completely understanding and sympathizing with you. Mesmerized briefly, she snapped out of it when he answered.

"Sergeant, there's going to be a lot of things you don't understand in the world, but you don't question them." Releasing her, he turned on the heel of his boot and walked off again. "For example, I don't question why my wife got cancer. Things just happen." Before she could react, he was gone, having made a left down the hallway and disappearing from sight.

"Perhaps you should," she whispered to herself as she brought the recruit to his room.

* * *

"You know, you're lucky you're alive."

I looked from my mechnaught to a bald man typing away at a computer. My mechnaught was currently having another arm attached, given that my old one had been all but obliterated. As of now, several small droids, and a hook were making repairs, whirring and buzzing about, sparks flying here and there. I took another bite from my meager meal of a sandwich before replying. "How so?"

Without looking up from his work, he replied. "If I'm guessing right, your arm was blown off by a Metal Helix, A-grade." I blinked. Although I seemed to be a God-like pilot, the details were better left unheard. Simple terms? I was ignorant of this techno-mumbo-jumbo, and I preferred to stay that way.

"I dunno. It was like a giant drill attached to a stick…," I murmured, realizing how stupid those words sounded.

"Yeah, it sounds about right." He fell silent briefly, but started again after entering a command. After which, there was a loud whir from the arm, attached to the hook. Something began spinning, and if I had to guess, the arm was getting ready to be bolted into the core. "If he had even touched the core, I don't think you'd be here right now."

"Maybe not standing and talking here, but I'd still be around." A lame attempt at a joke, but all this emo-how I could have died-talk was starting to annoy me. To get the subject off death for a second, I turned to Baldie, genuinely interested. "Hey, I never got your name."

"Joseph Gansrow, but you can call me Joe," he replied. "Everyone else does."

"Do you prefer Joseph?"

"Either works."

"….Can I call you Baldie?"

"…No."

"Hm. Well, I'm Zero, if you were wondering." Hrm. It didn't occur to me before, but thinking about it now, "Zero" was kind of a stupid name. The strict definition was "nothing," or "lacking substance." Which didn't really comfort me. However, since it was the Colonel who'd given me this name, I suppose I couldn't complain.

"Yeah, I know."

"How'd you know?" Before Joe could answer, there was a **ding!** and a familiar voice rang over the speakers in the ship.

_"Zero, please report to the bridge immediately."_ I froze and turned to Joe, who simply shrugged and continued typing.

"The Colonel told me."

* * *

"Here's your room."

The door opened with a creak, and she felt a sudden urge to simply turn around and walk in the other direction. With a start, she realized it was Brad's room, or rather, it _was_ Brad's room. She also realized she'd never been in here before – the only reason she knew was because she had seem him walking in here before. "Is there a trap in here…?" the Private asked groggily. Rene smiled. _The after-effects of the training._ The world would look evil for a few days until the training was properly processed – for now, he must have been something of a paranoid zombie.

He set his bag down and walked slowly into the room. It was empty now, but the air still smelled of Brad. Rene hung out by the doorway, a little hesitant to enter. Perhaps she was thinking about it too much, but she felt like an intruder. There was a brief moment of silence between the two, and she turned around to leave, saying, "Dinner is in an hour" before she left.

_I have something to do._

**

* * *

KRSHK!**

_"Faster, you sissy!"_

There were a lot of questions I wanted to ask, such as, "Why am I here?" or, "Why can't I eat?" or perhaps even, "How is it I'm losing?" I grunted as I was shoved backwards, my borrowed Pinkett stumbling a little. The cockpit shook from the impact, and a twinge of pain shot out from the bruise on my back. With a cry of alarm, I raised my shield and blocked another blow as she swung her Crimson Edge. If you haven't already guessed, we were training, as she so kindly put it. However, it was more like, "Let the Colonel use you as a punching bag." There was a loud **clang!** as she _smacked_ me with her _shield,_ sending me to the ground. The metal groaned on impact, and the computer continued wailing into my ear.

_How do I-_

**KRSHK!**

There was a loud alarm, and my cockpit was suddenly bathed in a sea of red. _Huh?_ Frantically, I looked at my display, and saw the one with system diagnostics. _System Error – Leg Drivetrain malfunction._ Next came a soft **thoomp,** as though something had latched onto my mechnaught. _Christ, I can't even escape._ I shut my eyes tightly. She was going to kill me for ruining that Rushnik, and being stupid – I knew it. And so, I accepted my death as calmly as I could, simply leaning back in my chair.

There was a loud groan, before my mechnaught suddenly jerked, another message popping onto my screen before the display was replaced by a wall of static. _System Error – Optics Malfunction._ I sighed. _Why don't you just finish me?_ I hit every button I saw, but none of them did anything even remotely similar to "Eject My F*cking Seat." _"How does defeat taste, Zero?"_

I blinked. There was… fresh air? I took a huge whiff, and crawled out of the small opening from the head's removal. I saw the Pinkett the Colonel was in, in the same condition as it was when we first began minutes ago. With a shade of red and embarrassment, I realized I couldn't even touch her. Was she really that much better than me? I realized I'd been getting arrogant in my wins, and that my skill was nothing compared to that of a Commanding Officer's. They were in charge for a reason after all. The hatch on her Pinkett opened, and she lowered herself down, landing in front of me, her boots clinking. With a look of confusion, I looked to her boots, and with a gulp, I realized her boots were lined with metal.

_That explains a lot…,_ I thought, remembering the "fight" we had days ago.

"I don't want you to take this as a training exercise, Zero. Because it's not." Removing her helmet, she shoved it into my arms and walked past me. "I wanted you to learn something out of this." I had a sneaking suspicion I already knew, but just to confirm, I asked anyway.

"And that would be….?"

She froze, and turned to look at me briefly.

"If you haven't figured it out, then I don't think you belong here." _Or rather, I __**won't**__ be here much longer,_ I thought as I watched her leave. Either way, I'd learned two things. One of them had to be what she wanted to show me.

1) You can be killed at anytime.  
2) The Colonel smelled nice.


	13. The Revival

**XIII. The Revival**

"I'm terribly sorry to hear that…."

Admiral Kishimoto was swiveling about in his large leather chair, situated near the back window of his study. A "study" was not the correct term – his room was a damn library, for crying out loud. From the moment you walked in, you would notice mahogany bookshelves and on them, books. Mostly antiques – the paper kind. Occasionally, there were models of old aircraft and such. His favorite one, a novelty item – a gray plush Pinkett that squeaked when you pressed it, was seated next to a cluster of books regarding the subject of mechnaughts.

"Yes, you too. Have a nice day." Kishimoto set the phone down and picked up the newspaper. _510th Supply Point occupied. Genesis behind the attack,_ he read with narrowed eyes. No matter what he read, where he went, what he ate, even, there was mention of war. Corruption too, although that last bit generally took some more effort to see. With a sigh, he put the newspaper down, having lost his drive to read the news. It was funny because he'd just gotten off the phone with someone, and that someone had informed him of his friend's death. That friend had also died in the situation described by the headline he'd just read. _Armstrong…._

Kishimoto was an old man by any standard – nearing his sixty-fifth birthday. However, he was still as healthy, strong, intelligent, and handsome as a man could be. His hair was graying, but it wasn't gone. In fact, he still had a head full of hair, much to the envy of his colleagues. Standing up and pacing about briefly, his red uniform (that of an Admiral) following him.

_I wonder…_

To put it bluntly, Masahiro Kishimoto was a man with having everything. Money was never a problem, being that he was paid by the government – which had a seemingly infinite supply of resources. He was loved by practically everyone – the public regarded him as a hero. He had a loving family, including his wife Andrea, his sons Masataka and Misashi, and his daughter Anya. He had one of the highest positions in the army, and with the push of a button and a few choice words, he could have a city eliminated at his discretion.

Power.

Christ, this man was made of it.

But when you have everything, there comes a point when you feel as though you have no purpose. It's the problem with having everything – "So you've achieved your goal. Now what?" That is why he was doing what he was doing now. Although he had not been on the frontlines since the end of the last war, he had no doubt that he would quickly dust up. Since the start of the conflict with Genesis, Kishimoto had been contemplating doing this, but he needed a little something to push him up and over the edge, back into the seat of his mechnaught.

That something came in the form of a dear friend's death. Picking up the phone again, he quickly dialed the Technical Department and waited for an answer.

"Hello there, this is Admiral Kishimoto. I was just wondering if my ol' Spazmok is still there somewhere?"

* * *

"Well, here it is."

The technician and Kishimoto entered the dimly lit hangar. The lights flashed brighter with a hum, and they were left looking at one of the greatest mechnaughts in existence. The sight of it brought back memories for Kishimoto – pleasant and uncomfortable ones. While he was no advocate of carnage, he couldn't say he didn't enjoy the thrill of combat. Not everyone felt the same way, of course. But then, he supposed, that was why they weren't in the army. "Ah yes…," he breathed, looking over his mechnaught.

It was the one and only HF2-PROTO in existence – while it was the predecessor of the Zeeker model, based on the HellFire platform, it outperformed them in everyway. But a single prototype had cost more than ten of the two types put together. Budget had been considered, and many functions had to be ditched, the most expensive of them, the _Solar Drive._ It was a small but efficient machine that made use of the flaps on its shoulders – solar panels. The solar energy would be absorbed by the flaps, which would then be fed to the generator inside, which gave it near infinite amount of boosting (EN) power. So, unless the machine was bathed in total darkness, there was practically no way for it to run out of power. There had been a reason why he'd been able to fight so well using nothing but swords – the Solar Drive was the reason.

Very few people knew of this, and the Admiral considered it a secret shame. While he had been portrayed as the "most skilled pilot in all of Marston," only half his success could be appropriately attributed to his skill. The other half came from the Spazmok. "Sir, I don't understand why you'd want to pilot _this_ again." The technician coughed, stiffening. "With all due respect, this thing is a piece of junk by modern standards. I looked at the specs. There was one thing in particular that stood out, but otherwise…." He shrugged.

"I'd take an Aerobolt over this."

The Admiral patted the man on the shoulder. "My boy, that one stat you saw more than makes up for its faults." The technician shrugged and handed the keys over to the Admiral.

"You're not thinking of going into combat with this, are you?"

Kishimoto simply grinned in reply.

* * *

"Rene."

The black haired female looked up from her tray as her squadmate-turned-subordinate, Terry. Offering a polite smile, she nodded and said, "Hi." Terry hesitated before carrying on.

"Can I sit here?"

"You don't have to ask. Go ahead." There was a small grunt as the blonde haired man lowered himself into the seat across from Rene and began eating. _Awkward silence. Again,_ Rene thought with a scowl, remembering the "conversation" she'd had with Brad at the funeral. Hadn't she been "sorry" for not being too friendly with her squadmates? _Why not change?_ She smiled to herself as she thought of something Brad might have said. _"There's no time like the present."_

"You look tired, Terry."

"Got back from the gym."

"Really?" Rene lifted her eyebrows in surprise. Terry had always appeared lanky to her, and she couldn't imagine him with muscle. Her surprise must have been plastered on her face, because Terry laughed.

"You don't believe me?" he asked while rolling up his sleeves. Her jaw dropped at the sight of his arms. They weren't tree-trunk large, but the man was clearly made of steel. It made her want to reach out and…

"Can I touch it?" She didn't wait for an answer, and he didn't resist. She reached out as if to stroke his arm, but suddenly pinched it.

"Ow!" Rene laughed as she squirmed away. In the back of her mind, she felt happiness. While she wasn't happy that Brad had died, she'd learned something from his death. A person couldn't be consumed by their ambitions or dreams, or they'd lose their identity. She'd forgotten what it meant to be happy – there'd been nothing but grief for as long as she could remember. _Thank you, Brad._

* * *

"Kishimoto…"

"Yes, her in particular."

Captain Marshall ran a hand through his hair as he read the Admiral's proposal. It wasn't as though he had power over the Admiral – if he wanted to, he could have simply handed him a note that said, "Give me your ship," and the Captain would have had to comply. But since the man was so kind to ask… Well, there was nothing wrong with being a little cautious. Besides, he couldn't let the Admiral feel as though he had all the power in the world (although quite frankly, he did). "I don't understand. Why her?" He picked up the sheet with Master Sergeant Rene Shin's specs and information on it. While the list was impressive, there were far better options onboard.

"Captain Marshall, what is emotion's place on the battlefield?" the Admiral asked a question right back, an ever present smile on his face. The Captain looked confused but briefly.

"I… There's no place for emotion," he recited listelessly. It was crap he'd been fed from the moment he'd entered the military. "Emotion will only get in the way and cloud your judgement…"

"Line thirteen of the starter manual," the Admiral replied.

"Word for word." There was a brief silence between the two men.

"I ignore that rule."

"Do you now?"

"Most do."

The Admiral stood up from his seat and walked over to the window overlooking the sea over which they were flying. The _Veritas_ was a beautiful ship, the Admiral thought. But it was a pity he was too nice to simply put himself in charge of the ship. He wasn't mean like that. However, he had _just enough_ malice in him to pilfer the best squad from the ship. "Yes. I think emotion in itself is a weapon… That it's sort of a… _boost option_ for the brain." He moved his hands about, as though trying to show the Captain what he meant. He motioned to the girl on the sheet. "She has plenty of emotion."

"How do you figure that?"

"I understand the leader of her squad passed away recently."

"What of it?"

"She was the last one to leave his funeral."

"He had a funeral?"

"His widowed wife left before she did."

"Sheesh." The two were silent for a moment as the puzzle clicked into place for Marshall. He nodded slowly, and passed the papers back to Kishimoto.

"Very well. You may borrow Squad Seven for your little operation."

"There's hardly anything 'little' about it, Captain."

"Is one squad enough?"

"More than enough."

"If this falls through, I'm placing the blame on you."

"Everyone else does. I'm still here, aren't I?" With that, the Admiral bowed slightly, and took his leave, leaving behind a very confused Captain Marshall.


	14. Grudge Match

**XIV. Grudge Match**

I lay in the bed of my room.

Yes, I had a room now. It was relatively small compared to the last room I was in, but I was told it was standard sized, meaning everyone else received the same treatment. I suddenly did not feel quite special. But then I had to stop and wonder. When was I ever special? I realized I made no real contribution to the team. Whether I lived or died made no real difference. But the disappearance of the mechnaught I piloted would be a blow.

When did I start thinking I was special, anyways?

Maybe I was overthinking things. It happens when you have no past to think about, no real future to hope for. I gave a soft sneer and turned over in my bed, pushing the depressing thoughts aside. But, I realized. It was the first time I was getting some sleep on a stationary object. The Aegis was landed, but not touching the ground. The base we occupied seemed to harbor no ill feelings toward us. The soldiers and staff merely did as they were told, which was nothing – they sat in a room day in and day out. Occasionally, our men would get rough with them because were bored, and this both amused and sickened me, but I turned a blind eye.

Sleeping like this felt a lot nicer.

* * *

"Understand?"

"Yes sir." Admiral Kishimoto and his newly formed squad had just gone over the battle plan, which was nothing short of _brilliant._ Rene was amazed by the sheer simplicity, straightforwardness, and audacity of the plan. But if it worked – and by God, it sounded like it was going to, they were probably looking at a promotion. Not Kishimoto, of course. Just more glory for him. But for the rest of them? A seven man group taking back a base from an enemy flagship. Using nothing more than their mobile suits, and a clever ruse.

"Very well. Let's move out."

The soldiers walked out of the briefing room, located in the center of a large transport vessel. At least, that's what it appeared to be. In reality, it was a disguised bomb, with enough firepower to take out, say… a military base. Unarmed at the moment, of course, but the moment every personnel departed, it would come to life. Rene was unnerved by the thought of standing inside a bomb. But her fears were dispelled when she climbed inside her new Stallion and catapulted her way out of the ship, in the lead. Her squad followed, and after a delay, so did Kishimoto's Spazmok.

_I've never seen that mech before._

In her rearview camera, she spied her commander's mechnaught. It was quite a sight to behold, due mostly to the large flaps on its shoulder – whose purpose Rene had yet to figure out. She figured they were stabilizers, or even for aesthetics, but the latter just seemed too absurd. She also couldn't help but notice the similarity to the Hellfire and Zeeker. Perhaps it was the colors – white and gold assigned to the upper echelons of the military. But the mechs just looked similar in general.

_Must be a new model._

_"Terry and Wilson, clear the ground level. The rest of you, follow my plan."_

"Understood."

**

* * *

WOOT WOOT WOOT!**

My eyes snapped open to the wonderful sound of the loudest alarm clock in the world. It wasn't an alarm clock really – by now, I'd figured out that it was the warning bell for people to get ready for battle. Was I needed? I sighed, and turned over in my bed, closing my eyes again. But the sound proved too great, and I began to wonder what the Colonel would say if she knew I was sleeping while the others were out fighting. Plus, by staying onboard while it was under attack, wasn't I placing my life in someone else's hands?

Reluctantly, I got out of bed and got dressed quickly, heading over to the hangars. "Bal- Gansrow! Is it ready yet?" I called out to the familiar looking man as I reached the hangar.

"Yes, but I'm sorry – I had to put Pinkett arms on, since we have no-"

"That's fine, I just wanna know if it can fight!"

"Yeah, it's good to go," he said, pointing to the silver mechnaught down the hangar. It looked subtly different now, but I supposed that was what he'd been trying to tell me. With a nod, I ran over to the mechnaught and hopped in, strapping in and going through the usual processes. It was muscle memory now – I hardly had to think to get it into gear and out of the hangar. Only this time, I made a mistake. I was used to simply falling out of the hangar, since I expected Aegis to be in the air. But as the ground came up to reach me instead, I quickly rightened myself and landed feet first, albeit a bit roughly.

**Thoomp.**

* * *

"Go!"

Kishimoto uttered a simple command, his subordinates following them at once. He watched as Rene, the leader, went first. He smiled to himself. She was getting too fired up already – he could tell from the recklessness with which she piloted her mobile suit. Her Stallion burst forward, and he was a little alarmed, but no matter. She wasn't central to the plan. But the pieces clicked into place as Kishimoto watched her speed right at a certain ground unit. At least, he thought it was a ground unit.

A quick zoom-in from the camera told him it was nothing more than a Rushnik, equipped with a booster he'd never seen before. He found the whole thing ironic – he'd figured out that Shin had a grudge against the pilot of the Rushnik. But the whole old mech versus new mech thing was just so damned funny – especially since it seemed as though the Rushnik had come out on top everytime.

But the Admiral shrugged. Maybe he was wrong.

"Wilson and Terry, how are things on the ground?"

_"So far so good. The enemy is just beginning to catch on. I can see them deploying now."_

"Terrific. Just barricade yourselves inside and hold out until the signal." There was a brief pause as though the men were beginning to have second thoughts about the plan. But after a few awkward seconds, there was a buzz, and Wilson's somewhat familiar voice.

_"Yes sir."_

"Shin, slow it down. You'll be out of juice before you get to the enemy."

No response.

_

* * *

"Warning. Enemy locked on."_

I smirked as I turned to see a familiar yet unpleasant mechnaught heading right for me. It was a sight I'd seen far too many times. Those times had given me pleasure and pain all at once. But I was beginning to fear that my luck would run out sometime soon, and that if I didn't take this psycho chick out, I'd be the one taken out. _Time to settle this now._

"Three guesses who it is!" I spat into the comm, as I whipped around and brought up a large shield to block her blow. But since she had been heading at me full burst, my Rushnik was knocked back, and I boosted backwards to create some distance. But the Stallion didn't reply or slow down. Maneuvering with finesse as only a professional could, the Stallion suddenly upturned itself, and flew right at me, fighting the forces of gravity to get to where I was – in the air.

_"I am so entirely sick of seeing your face!"_

I scoffed as I brought up my particle beam to block her blow. "Odd, because you've never seen my face." With a grunt, I suddenly brought my left arm over, along with the shield, into the side of the Stallion. There was a loud **crunch!** as my shield made contact with the side of her mechnaught, and she was thrown to the side.

_"Rgh!"_

As she was thrown to my right, she whipped out a Beam Spitter, and appropriately, it began to spit beams at me. Bringing up my shield to block the hits, I realized it was a mistake when my mechnaught suddenly shook, and I was thrown, spinning, to my left. _What the-?!_ But there was more – something pierced the armor in my leg, and a small warning in my display flashed on. _Minimal damage to left leg,_ showing the spot where the leg was hit.

_You're annoying._

"Woman! You've crossed the line!" I yelled as I sped right for her again, as she blasted lasers at me, my shield rocking with every hit. Occasionally, a hit scratched my armor, but if it didn't kill me, I carried on. There was a **boom!** as I collided with her, knocking the gun out of her hands, leaving just the blade. But as I expected, she attempted to stab the thing into my side, hooking around the shield. _Not on my watch._ I shifted my shield to the left, and with a loud **clunk!** she was sent rocking off awkwardly to the side.

_"What line?!"_ To my surprise, she took out a shield of her own, although this one was a force shield – the circular one. The sight of it brought back memories, and I began laughing as we waited for the other to make the first move.

"I remember that shield…," I began slowly as I lowered my shield to the side, exposing my core.

_"Shut up,"_ she growled.

"I remember fighting someone with one. I was quite lucky that day. Did you know, I-" But I couldn't finish my sentence, because she'd charged at me again, shield in front and sword at the ready.

_"Shut up! Shut up!"_

"I won that fight from pure luck! How crazy is that?!" I yelled as I boosted out of the way. As I flanked her, I gave her back another smack from my shield, sending her tumbling downwards. Following up with that blow, I reeled back the sword arm to finish her off. "So long…"

_"I'm not finished yet!"_ Without word or warning, she suddenly spun around and chucked the shield at me like a Frisbee. _Christ-_ My right arm shook, and my display suddenly registered the right hand as "unarmed." _Fuck._ With despair, I watched as the handle of my blade went tumbling down to the surface. There was laughter from the other side of the comm. unit, and I frowned. _"How does defeat taste?"_

_Now where have I heard that before?_ The familiar line creeped me out, but it didn't downright scare me. _Coincidence._ But she was right – I was pretty much done. Because of the shield, I only had one weapon equipped. Was it time to switch over to guns from now on? Assuming I got myself out of this mess, of course.

_Crap._


	15. White Fang

**XV. White Fang  
**

"Colonel, it's their Admiral…"

Jean's ears perked up, and her eyes snapped open wide. _Their Admiral?! What's an Admiral doing out here?!_ She watched on her map as ground units were being picked off, while the base they'd occupied was essentially untouched. From this, she deduced that the enemy was inside the base, using it as cover while they held off the ground units. _Damn good move,_ she commented of the enemy's strategy, but it didn't make her feel any better. "Put the Admiral through…," she whispered, her voice losing the confident quality.

_"Good evenin,' folks. How you doing?"_ Kishimoto's face appeared on the main screen, smirking. The crew gulped. Everyone recognized him. The "White Fang" during the great war, he used only blades – to great effect, and it was probable that it still applied now.

"How can I help you, your Excellency?" Jean asked, keeping her voice as even as possible. She knew what he wanted – everyone did. A duel similar to the last one's, except the results would be different this time; she knew it. Hands trembling slightly, she awaited an answer.

_"As you may know, I've gotten rusty over the years, and I was wondering if you could help me get back in shape…"_

The Colonel stared coldly into the man's eyes for a while. "So you want a duel."

_"Putting it bluntly, yes."_

"Do you really want a simple duel, or is there a reward or punishment for the winner and loser?" Jean was skeptical – in her line of work, she had to be. No one in their right mind would believe that the man simply wanted a duel.

_"Not especially."_

"Bullshit."

_"That hurts, ma'am. You don't trust me?"_

"I have no reason to."

_"Perhaps you're scared – no. You __**know**__ you'll lose."_

"I'm scared you'll be a disappointment."

The Admiral threw back his head and laughed derisively. This little banter was becoming childish now – like children daring each other to do something, or teenagers daring each other to throw the first punch. But if she didn't accept his challenge now, she could never show her face even to her own crew. It'd be much too shameful – on her, at least. But the crew didn't care. It was just Jean. _"You're a funny one. Well, if you beat me, it'll be a blow to the military, and a glory for you. Two birds with one stone."_ He leaned in closer to the screen.

_"What do you say?"_

But the Colonel was no longer there.

_

* * *

"Are you done saying your prayers?"_

The woman's voice reverberated around my cockpit, causing me to cringe and grimace. She was going to kill me now. What could I do? I was weaponless, and the ground was pretty far below me. I looked down, and I didn't reply to her question. _"Doesn't matter. There's no God for you."_ Her Stallion shifted into attack position, its blade at the ready.

_"This is the end for you!"_

_No. It's not the end yet._ Suddenly shutting off my thrusters, gravity took over every ton of metal crafted into the mechnaught, pulling it to the ground. She boosted right past where I had been seconds ago, and I smirked. Was she going to come after me now? My plan gambled on her mindset. Was she the type to see it to the end, and kill with her own hands, or did she think I'd run out of gas, and that anyway she looked at it, I'd die?

_"Sayonara."_ I smirked.

There really was a God.

* * *

"There she is…"

The Admiral sat idly in his seat, watching a glimmer in the distance grow larger into a black dot, then grow limbs, traveling in front of a burst of blue light. He acutely remembered seeing that mechnaught somewhere before. Perhaps it had been in a magazine – it was new, was it not? Maybe he had passed it once while visiting one of the many facilities. Whatever the case, he knew one thing – the SideWinder heading for him would no longer be operational after this bout. "About time!" he called out as he shifted out of idle and brought his Spazmok into ready stance.

Except he seemed to be missing something.

"He's unarmed?" the Colonel whispered as she dashed towards the strange looking mechnaught. The machine was devoid of any weapons, not even particle beam handles on the waist. Unless… the thing opened up its panels and fired at her. But that just seemed silly. "You're going to punch me with that?" Jean sneered, slowing to a stop before the Spazmok.

_"No."_

Jean didn't have a good feeling about this. No sane man would go into a fight weaponless. Unless, this mechnaught was truly designed for hand-to-hand combat. But she could tell it wasn't, due to its complex form. If a unit was to be hand-to-hand, it should be compact. _"Not going to make the first move, Colonel?"_

"Oh, I will…." With a roar, she boosted forward at the Admiral, her Annhilators heated and ready to cut. Swinging her left arm up, she prepared to slam it down. **Krsk!** Jean then realized her blow had suddenly stopped dead in its tracks. _What? I don't remember stopping…_ But it wasn't due to her that it stopped.

It had happened quite quickly. The Admiral had been idling by as the SideWinder sped for him. Then, without warning, he'd suddenly draw his particle beams and blocked her blow with his pink beam. Where had his blades come from, you ask? The secret was in the Spazmok's forearms, which split open when the swords were needed. The reason behind this? So that the particle beams could recharge while they were stored. Of course, such construction meant fragility, but that really wasn't an issue with Kishimoto.

No one had ever landed a hit on his dear Spazmok, and the record wasn't going to shatter now.

"My turn…."

* * *

"You honestly think I'm just going to let you get away?!"

Rene suddenly dove after the Rushnik. She had been considering simply letting him "fall to his death," but she'd picked up his plan in the nick of time. _Nice try though._ She set her boost to maximum, particle blade at the ready. Oh boy – once she caught up to that Rushnik, it was over. But something was wrong. The Rushnik wasn't getting any closer. If anything, it was inching away from her. Was it faster than her Stallion? Gritting her teeth as she punched the "boost" button to no avail, she realized her instincts had been right when she saw the man's actions.

_You son of a bitch._

The man didn't fall to the ground, crushed. Instead, he activated his booster at the last moment, and swerved off to the side – right at the base where her comrades were barricaded. "No!" she hissed as she followed him, but whatever booster he had, it was fucking fast. "Wilson, watch out!" she warned of her friend.

_"I see him. Targeted and firing!"_

Wilson was wielding a Blitz Rocket, she realized. Her fears were dissipated with this thought. Wilson was a sharp shooter. Although she would have liked to finish Mr. Rushnik off herself, she was getting tired of chasing this man. Wilson's shot would be quick and painless. But she watched in awe as Wilson fired a rocket right at the man. If not for the trail of fire and smoke, she would never be able to see the rocket. But the man was apparently as fast as his mechnaught. Not losing his rhythm, the Rushnik simply sidestepped it and carried on, right towards the base.

_Holy shit._

There was a **BANG!** as the Rushnik crashed head-on into Wilson, knocking the rocket out of his hands. "Wilson!" she cried and began heading over.

_"Get off him, you piece of shit!"_ Terry's voice sounded in too, and she watched as the second Stallion inside turned its Iron Curtains on the Rushnik.

"Don't fire! You'll hit Wilson!" But she heard a sickening **crunch!** over the line, and watched in horror as the Rushnik slammed its shield down on the Stallion's head, crushing it.

_"Christ! Motherfucker!"_ Terry was about to fire, when the Rushnik burst out of the way, the shots hitting Wilson instead. Scooping up the rocket launcher Wilson had dropped, the silver mechnaught proceeded to decimate Terry as well.

"Terry! NO!"

**KRSHK. KRSHK. KRSHK BAM!**

In a mix of shock, fear, and amazement, she watched as the man used the launcher as a melee weapon, first uppercutting Terry into the air, following him and bashing him upwards again. He sped above his victim, and with a decisive blow, slammed him back down. Where had she seen that before? "Isn't that…?" she breathed.

_"…the Major's Devil Slugs?"_ Wilson finished.


	16. The Abyss

**XVI. The Abyss**

_"What's wrong, Colonel?"_

The SideWinder gave a strong shove with its Annihilators and boosted backwards. The Spazmok chased, its high speed allowing it to quickly catch up and press on a brutal attack. The Admiral was simply toying around now – no feints, no ploys: just straight hacking. **Wham! Wham! Wham!** The Colonel desperately blocked them, having a hard time even keeping up with the speed. _This was a bad idea,_ she thought grimly. She shouldn't have been so prideful. But then, she remembered that arrogance was the bane of the strong. While she didn't consider herself exceptionally strong, she assumed it safe to apply the words to herself.

_"Ready or not, Colonel. Here I come."_

A large flower of flames shot out from behind the Spazmok as it boosted at her yet again, its swords buzzing with pink intensity. _Godamnit. I'm getting tired._ With a grunt, she took the initiative to attack first, lunging forward to slash him. But he disappeared – seemingly a trick of the eye. There was no trick involved, just insane speed and maneuvering. Before she could say, "Oh shit," her sword had already flown out of her hand, and she just barely had enough time to spin around, blocking a downward slash of both beam swords.

"You bastard…."

* * *

Oops, did I do that?

I grinned, my heart pounding in excitement as I observed the damage I'd done. I'd stolen a rocket launcher and beaten someone up with it. Before that, I caused a soldier to fire at his own teammate, even if it was accidental. So the base was clear, right? All that left was the annoying pest outside. With a sneer, growing bolder by the minute, I tossed aside the wrecked launcher and turned towards her, picking up the dropped rifles. However, after trying to aim and such with them, I found it incredibly difficult.

_"You… Oh Christ."_

_I guess shooting isn't my thing._ Tossing aside the rifles, I bent down to pilfer the beam sabers from the heavily damaged mechnaught. Igniting with a sharp **buzz!** I pointed it at my foe and motioned for her to follow. "Let's settle this where we won't be interrupted."

_"Back up's not coming."_ She seemed to be telling the truth, but I couldn't be sure.

"I'm not concerned about your friends. I'm concerned about mine." Whether she liked it or not, we were leaving this island and going to another. I wanted no interruptions. I felt it, and she knew it; we seemed to be tied by a string. No matter where we were, we seemed to meet each other somehow. I hoped to end that cycle.

_"Stop screwing around!"_ It had been a mistake to turn my back on her. There was a loud **bam** and my cockpit rumbled as the Stallion slammed into the back of my mechnaught, knocking me forward, deeper into the base. The idiot! I grunted as my mechnaught was thrown off balance, crashing through the wall. Turning as I skidded across the ground, I turned to block another blow from her, this time in the form of a slash from her sword.

"You idiot! There's people inside!" I grunted as I was pushed backwards, sparks flying.

There was laughter, and I had to stop and listen briefly. _"Tell me…,"_ she began, in a voice different from what I was used to hearing. _"When you walk, do you look to see if you've stepped on any ants?"_ My eyes widened. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"You're comparing ants to humans?!" I exclaimed, pushing her back with my sword. I was furious now. Before, I might have believed she was a rational human being. Now, I realized she was just a crazy broad with revenge and strange ideals in her head. She burst forward again and knocked me backwards through yet another wall. **Warning: Booster Error.** _Fuck._

However, this wall was different. It didn't lead to another room. It lead to a large elevator shaft. With a gasp, I felt the effects of gravity full force as my mechnaught lost its grip on the ground, and began its descent. _No, no, NO!_ I pushed every button I saw, but none of them would let me fight nature. Panicking, my state of mind was made worse by her pursuit. She was diving in after me? Was she insane? Bringing up my sword to block another blow, I jabbed the other one into the sides of the shaft to grab a hold on.

_"Bad move! The enemy is here!"_ I could feel the malice in her voice, and as I watched sparks fly from my sword cutting through the walls, I realized what she was going to do. _NO!_ With an expression of horror, I watched as she sliced my mechnaught's arm off, and once again, my descent speed increased. _"Ants and humans are comparable…,"_ she growled, answering my question from before. _"They're insignificant, and their minds are generally the same."_ She paused, and shoved me down, boosting after me. _"Besides, you killed off Brad like it was no big deal, yeah? Like stepping on an ant."_

"He was going to kill me," I shot back as I felt myself thrown into the walls, sparks flying and metal screeching. Man, when was this abyss going to end? I realized my leg thrusters were probably slowing the fall, but without the boosters, I couldn't downright freeze.

_"Then you should have died!"_

I grunted as my mechnaught shook again. "Tell me. If humans are like ants in that everyone is the same, why aren't we the same? Why are we fighting?" Forget this. Everything was so chaotic. Heck, I could barely see anything.

_"We're anomalies,"_ she whispered. _"That is why…."_ As she sped after me, she raised her blade. _"I'm going to finish you and prove I'm the right one!"_

"You're wrong!" I cried as I blocked it yet again. "I-"

That was when I blacked out.


	17. The Other Side

**XVII. The Other Side**

_Ungh…._

Well, this was a most lachrymose scene.

My eyes opened slowly, even as I was being hit. Wait, I was being beaten? I gasped as the familiar sensation came back. I was somewhat aware of a warm fluid running down my face, and an ephemeral light source. When I came to my senses, I saw three figures standing before me, in a dimly lit room. Above me was a swinging lamp; its angle changing ever so slowly. I didn't know why, but at that moment, I was scared. For the first time, I felt helpless. When I tried to move my limbs, they refused to budge, something offering resistance. When I opened my mouth to talk, there was a sharp **crack!** as something hit my face, and my head whipped around, giving me whiplash.

"Someone… wanna give me… an explanation?"

"We don't really need any information or services from you," the person in the middle said, patting his miniature bat. Christ, had he been hitting me with that? I scoffed at his statement.

"Then why are you doing this?"

**Bam!** I gasped as crimson flew out of my mouth. "My associates and I enjoy it. It's not everyday we get to confront face to face, the thorn in our sides." He took a step closer, and although I couldn't see his face, I saw a badge over his left breast, one that made me cringe.

**Marston Armed Forces**

I grimaced, putting the pieces in place. So that was it. I'd been captured after my fall, and they were now having their way with me. Not in the sexual way. At least, not yet. I shuddered at the thought. _Don't even go there._ I realized I didn't really feel pain. In its place, I felt a strange tingly sensation. Was that it? They'd beaten me numb? I couldn't even feel my own body? _In that case…._ I sighed and shook my head.

"Cowards. The lot of you."

I didn't remember what happened after that.

* * *

"How are you feeling, Colonel?"

A black haired woman lay in a white bed, bandages wrapped around here in various places. She was perfectly awake, and seemingly at ease, just looking quietly out the window as the Aegis flew by the clouds. Her mind was in turmoil, however, still remembering the events a few days ago. Jean had been fighting the Admiral of Marston in her SideWinder; it was clear she was on the losing end, but she wasn't one to simply give up. Yes, she remembered it clearly now.

_Two metallic behemoths waged war on each other in the air, slowly descending with each blow. A decisive blow was made in which the Admiral feigned a thrust, but quickly drew back, slicing its particle beam against the SideWinder's core. Sparks flew, and a small eruption flared against the mechnaught before it fell back, its thrusters sputtering. Smoke poured from the injury on its metallic body – a large slash embedded in the armor of the core.  
_

_**"Warning. Malfunction."**__ The Colonel ignored the voice as she tried to regain control of her machine. But nothing she touched would cause it to stop falling. Before long, there was a loud __**boom!**__ as her mechnaught made contact with the Earth's surface, jarring the cockpit. Her vision became blurry, but not before the Admiral's mechnaught landed in her view, its sword pointed at her SideWinder's head._

_"You're not worth killing. Honestly, I expected more…," the Admiral whispered. She groaned, trying to find something to reply with. Why wasn't he killing her? Didn't he realize she was just going to come back with a vengeance? Or was there something else? Perhaps he was overconfident. Yeah, he was just showing her his power, that bastard._

_"I'll kill you," she croaked, the taste of iron filling her mouth as the Spazmok became blurry, and her vision eventually black._

"Fine," she replied without turning around. As if they had eyes of their own, her hand reached over to take a biscuit from Nurse Sarah's tray, casually inserting it in her mouth. At first, she was going to take a bite, but after remembering those events, she shoved the whole thing in her mouth in a fit of anger.

"Please, ma'am. You'll choke…"

"I'm fine," she retorted, having already swallowed it. The Nurse stayed silent briefly and handed the Colonel a report.

"The list of names and their numbers." The Colonel's heart rate increased as eyes scanned the sheet. Not a single "MIA" on the list. Her hope dwindled as she made her way down.

"No," she whispered.

"I'm sorry…," Sarah apologized for seemingly no reason, shifting uncomfortably.

Jean didn't hear her, for she was miles away. When hope had seemingly died, her eye picked up a "MIA" at the bottom of the list. Her heart skipped a beat and she read the name carefully. However, even if she had read it a thousand times, the name registered would not have changed.

**00 Zero**

"Zero…," she whispered, and she remembered the man that had given her so much grief. Missing in Action. A tear made its way down her cheek and she quickly brushed it away, pretending to rub her eye.

"Something wrong?"

"Were any units recovered?"

"Well, yeah. One. But it's probably not-"

"Take me to the hangar. Have Gansrow unload the mess for me to see when I get there."

* * *

"Number Zero Zero One Six, are you listening to me?"

A bright light shone on my face and I cringed as I opened my eyes, the intensity causing me to immediately shut them again. What did he just say? I tried to move my limbs again, but they were still bound. Heck, I was probably still in the same chair. The scent of iron returning again, I let my eyes adjust to the light before relaxing. "I hear you."

"We have a few questions to ask you, and if you'll kindly cooperate with us, you'll be out of here in no time." I didn't believe the silhouette's words. The shadow sitting behind a desk before me didn't quite seem real, and the surrealism kind of got to me. He wanted to ask me a few questions? I sighed, unable to find something to say. If I played dumb, I'd be beaten or worse. They had picked me out of my godamn mechnaught – there was no getting around that. If I responded with "No," I'd be beaten or worse. If I said "Yes," I'd feel as though I were betraying my friends.

Friends…

Were they coming to rescue me? I very much doubted it. One soldier was not enough to justify sending the army out for. _Popular sovereignty._ I didn't remember where I heard the word, but it sounded like the right time to use it. Well, come to think of it. Did I have any friends? I only considered two people friends, and I was pretty sure they thought of me as an "Extra." There was the Colonel, who had a device that could kill me at will. And there was Gansrow and his condescending attitude.

No, I was alone.

"First question. What does your leader look like?" I looked up. Well, I didn't even know what the mastermind of Genesis' name was, let alone what he looked like. I sighed, shaking my head. This answer couldn't hurt, right? I wasn't giving any information away.

"I don't know. We've never-" With a splash, my head was suddenly submerged in a bucket of water I hadn't noticed. Thrashing about as hard as I could, every fiber in my body screamed in pain as they cursed for oxygen. Christ, they were drowning me because I didn't know the answer to their fucking question? I began turning dizzy, and my limbs' movements began to slow. _This is it. I-_

**Splash!** My head was taken out of the water, and I gasped for breath, my lungs contracting and contracting very quickly. I could feel my heart pounding against my ribcage, agitated by the lack of energy. "Ungh… ungh.. I… I sw… I swear…," I spat out between gasps, water flowing out of my nose, my ears, and mouth. Perhaps even my eyes, because I was crying.

Yeah, I was fucking crying.

"When your memories return, the pain will stop. Until then…" Although I couldn't see the man's face, I knew he was smiling. Those monsters. I was picked up, chair and all, out of the room by two men. I turned my head to get a good look at the man behind the table, but all I saw was that shadow, mocking me.

Wait. Until then, what was going to happen?


	18. The Better Escape

**XVIII. The Better Escape**

How much longer would I last?

I looked up at the ceiling of my cell. It wasn't much – a plain gray room, square in shape, illuminated by the bar of light on the ceiling. In the corner was a small toilet; hardly big enough for my ass to sit on. Shit, they didn't even give me a bed. The floor? It was dirty, but I remember hearing somewhere that sleeping on a hard surface was good for you. And so I lay there.

There were exactly a hundred and six cracks on the walls, ceiling and floor, ranging from the miniscule to the large crevices. From these openings, cold air flowed in, and I had to jump around and waste energy in order to stay warm. My nights were plagued by nightmares and frequent awakenings from the cold. The food I was given through the door was transformed into a strange green substance when it came out the other end.

And don't get me started on the creepers that sometimes shared the room with me.

I wanted to die. And maybe I was; after all, these people were killing me little by little. Was that their plan? To remove bits of me until I no longer cared and told them what they wanted? Their questions ranged from the normal to the downright disgusting.

Someone help me die.

* * *

"Congratulations, Rene."

The Master Sergeant looked up from her meal at Wilson, whose arm was in a sling, and whose head was half wrapped with bandages. She damn near dropped her fork. "Wilson-" she began, getting out of her seat.

"Cool it. I'm alright. Just a scrape." The statement was simply so ridiculous, Rene laughed.

"Yeah, I know. Boot camp was worse, wasn't it?"

"Tell me about it. Remember when I messed up on the mountains training?"

Rene cringed. "Don't remind me."

"Anyway, congrats! I heard some higher-ups talking. I think another promotion is coming your way!" Rene raised an eyebrow, cocking her head.

"Why?"

"For the capture of the big fish."

* * *

"Well, here it is. I don't understand why you'd want to look at it, but I'll tell you now it's beyond repair."

Joe stepped aside to let the Colonel look at the mess before her. "Mess" was an overstatement, she supposed, since the basic shape was still intact. But frankly, if it was beyond repair, it was scrap metal. However, she hadn't come to inspect it. She'd come to see the chances of someone surviving. "Where did you say you found this?" she asked, her eyes locked on the core which looked like it was ripped open by another mechnaught.

"In the base, at the bottom of the elevator shaft." Joe looked pretty awkward, as though he knew what the Colonel was thinking, but didn't have the guts to tell her it was wrong. But he went through anyway, and said what was on his mind. "Colonel… Some soldiers in the base said two mechnaughts went in, one came out. I don't think the body is still there…."

Yes, she was thinking perhaps he was still down at wherever he was, gasping dying breaths. Jean would never admit it aloud, but she missed him already. Of course, she missed all her soldiers, but this one in particular… she'd gotten to know him a little. The others were identified by names and numbers, accredited by their performance in battle.

Jean sighed. _Is that it, Zero? You come in, cause some trouble, give us hope, and leave?_ She bit her lower lip and turned away. "Have a nice day, Joe."

"Let's go, chief. Ready to cough up the information?"

* * *

A uniformed man walked into my cell again, holding something that looked remarkably like a whip, only now and then, I saw a crackle of electricity run through it. I flinched a little, and shook my head. "I already told you. I don't know anything." The man took a menacing step closer, causing me to slip back a little, against the wall. _This is it. He's going to torture you, and then kill you because you've been uncooperative for almost a week._ But as my will to live left me, I suddenly thought of a plan, just as the man closed the cell door.

"Well, no one's going to know anything about you either." As he raised the whip, I suddenly shot both legs out, springing off the wall. A shockwave ran through my body as my feet made contact with his chest, sending him flying backwards. The whip left his hand as his back at the wall, and I scrambled for the weapon. Scooping the whip up before he could react, I ran over to the guard and kicked him down before he could get back up.

"Uwah!" he cried as his back hit the wall again. Here came the crucial part. It would be troublesome for him to die kicking and screaming, so I adjusted. Kicking him to the side, onto the ground, I quickly jumped over him and wrapped the whip around his neck, tightening it. Before you raise your hand to your mouth and mutter, "Holy Shit," please try to understand. It was me or him.

**BZZT!**

The whip shocked the man while choking him, a double jeopardy. Unable to look at the damage I was causing, I instead looked at the walls, which glowed blue now and then with the electricity's flow. He was a strong man, I'll give him that. But for some reason, I was stronger, and he soon stopped struggling. The smell of burnt flesh hit my nose and I reeled back. But I was smiling, I realized. Not because I was a malevolent individual, but because I had a new lease on life.

Excited, I slipped out of my prison-wear and into the Marston uniform. Would anyone notice? I slipped on the pants and buckled the belt. In the back of my mind, I had to stop and wonder. How had I taken him out so easily? Once I removed his shirt and saw the muscles, I found it even harder to believe. But I suppose I should have thanked the Gods for letting this happen. Picking up the whip and his keys, I left my former prison, locking the door behind me.

_I need some kind of transport._ Nonchalantly making my way down the hall, I gave a nod every now and then to a fellow "associate." No strange looks. Perhaps they thought I was new, or they just weren't aware. Either way, they were making my job a Hell lot easier than I probably deserved. Looking out a window, I realized I was on an upper floor. Following that logic, I searched for an elevator to go down.

But I didn't find one. _Shit. Which way is the hangar?_

"Excuse me, which way is the hangar?" I stopped a guard and asked a question. Little did I know it was a bad idea. He stared at me briefly before reaching behind him for something. It was then that I acted, and shot my elbow out, right into his face. He gave a cough, and fell backwards, his grip loosening around a small black pistol.

"Hey!" Some guards behind me stopped and shouted, alerting the whole freaking hallway. In alarm, I dove out of the way as bullets hit the spot where I was milliseconds ago. Spinning around faster than I knew I could, I stopped and launched several bullets at my assailants. Two enemies? **Blam! Blam!** Two shots. I was a little unnerved at how I managed to do that, but now wasn't the time to complain. It seemed as though my luck was quickly crumbling.

_**Intruder Alert. Intruder Alert.**_Are all computers supposed to be females or something? I wondered as I ran down the hall, ignoring the metallic female voice ringing through the speakers. There were footsteps behind me, and the sound of forearms being loaded, but I didn't dare look behind. Quickly skidding around a corner, I managed to just avoid being turned into Swiss cheese.

"He's going to the Hangar! Stop him!"

I smirked as I ran down the hall, bullets whizzing by me and hitting the ground at my feet. Wow, did these people have piss poor aim or something? Not that I was complaining. But growing bolder by the minute, I saw a pair of sliding doors before me and went straight through, into a large open space. _I'm here._ Giddy with excitement at the prospect of escape, I spun to the left and dashed down the hangar, looking for a mechnaught to hijack and escape in. Seriously, I'm not asking for much. But one in particular caught my eye.

Nearly twice the width of any mechnaught I'd ever seen, it looked like it was composed of individual tanks rather than arms and legs. Take for example the legs, which had treads on them like a tank. But best of all, the hatch was open. Seems like engineers were making adjustments to it. Lucky me!

"Out of my way!" I cried as I jumped onto the mechnaught's shoulder and down onto the core, where I kicked both engineers off the surface. They cried out as they fell several stories down to the bottom. Not that I didn't care, but at the time, I was more worried about myself.

"Stop!" I heard soldiers firing shots at me. But it was futile, because at that time, I had already gotten inside the core and closed the hatch. I heard bullets ricochet off the armor plating, but I wasn't worried. _It's started already too. How nice._ Clutching the controls, I moved the behemoth out of its docking space. It was an entirely different experience from the Rushnik. Whereas that one had been built for pure speed and finesse, this one lacked both, knocking over pillars, snapping wires, and pushing into other mechnaughts as it moved.

"Let's go!" I shouted in excitement as I pushed forward on the controls, ushering the machine forward. It stomped forward, making miniature earthquakes everytime it moved. People were still shooting at me, despite the lack of effect. But some had gotten smart, and decided to engage me in their mechnaughts. _Bring it on._ I watched as someone came at me in a Stallion, but to no avail. Before the Stallion could turn me into Shishkebob with its sword, I raised my arm and caught the metal blade, snapping it. _Holy crap! My Rushnik couldn't do this._

Next, I shot out my other arm into the Stallion, throwing it off into the side, into other mechnaughts. _I could really get used to this._ Below, I heard people screaming. Some of the more notable quotes included, "Shit, he's got the Vigilant!" or "Motherfucker! Someone get him!" As for me? Well, the hangar door was closed, but the ceiling was made of something clear. Should I risk it? _Nothing to lose._ Engaging the booster pack, I felt the giant machine move vertically up, an eerie purple light pulsating below me as I did so. The sky grew nearer and nearer until-

**crash!**

I was free.


	19. Next Day

**XIX. Next Day**

"Hello~?"

In a half awake, half asleep daze, I turned over in the softness of a mattress. Boy, this was quite comfortable. I could sleep like this for the rest of eternity. The smell was a nice touch – I wonder who did that? The bed groaned beneath me, and I could feel someone looming over me. Shit, was it time to wake up already? C'mon, I just need a few more minutes… G'way… I'll be there in a few… But the presence didn't leave, and I realized the breathing was practically next to my ear. In alarm, I jerked over to the side, hitting the wall.

"Oof!" A squeaky voice? Probably the nurse coming over to wake me. But more importantly…

A wall? I didn't remember my bed being next to a wall. My body suddenly remembered the pain it was supposed to be feeling, I suddenly limped out and forgot about the mysterious wall, falling onto the bed and bouncing a little. "Ack…," I groaned as I gripped my sides. Right. Those bastards at the prison had kicked the shit out of me occasionally.

"You should watch it. You could have killed me!" The voice was unfamiliar, but I didn't look up yet. I figured I was still half asleep. I turned over and looked at the wooden ceiling. I froze.

Wooden ceiling?

Snapping up for the second time, I looked at my surroundings. What the Hell? This was not my room, and the girl staring at me… was most definitely not a soldier.

"…Where's the cream filling?"

**

* * *

Several days ago….**

"The bastard… is he alive?"

Rene was in her Stallion, hovering over the wreckage. The broken mechnaught was quickly sinking beneath the surface of the ocean. So let's rewind a bit, Master Sergeant. The person you captured, known only as "Zero," was thrown in jail. But somehow, managed to escape because of a guard's carelessness. Punishment for that guard will not be needed, since he's already been killed. Zero stole a Vigilant and escaped in it, causing millions in damage while he did so.

Just how much is this kid going to cost you?

Rene had wanted to take a look at the person who'd antagonized her for so long… but it was dark down there, and he was bleeding pretty badly, so she couldn't quite tell. Even then, she got this strange feel of familiarity from him – as though he were someone she knew, or was supposed to know. Was it their battles that gave her this feeling? She shook the thought out of her mind. So what if the man was someone she knew? He had killed Brad and humiliated her several times over.

It's strange; Zero's escape was in no way her fault. But still, she felt obliged to be the one to capture him. Why? Why had she jumped into her Stallion at the first mention of his escape? She looked down at the waters, the smoldering wreckage, the waves…

If he wasn't burned or crushed to death, he'd be killed by the ocean.

"Let's pack it up, boys. No way he's surviving that."

* * *

Her name was Minerva.

It was an old-fashioned name, but it suited her well. Minerva was the Goddess of the arts and such. Appropriate, since Minerva (the girl) was something of an artist herself. Various works were hung around her modest apartment, and she had even begun drawing Zero until he woke up. "The what?" she asked in confusion.

"Ungh… Where am I?" Zero looked around.

"My home, silly." He looked at her in alarm.

"Wait, what? Why?"

He was in shock, she supposed. Perhaps he didn't remember why he was in such a position. Speaking of which, Minerva wasn't sure herself if this man was a criminal. She had been walking home one day, and seen the man drifting by under the bridge. It was quite scary to be honest, but Minerva wasn't the type to simply leave him there. And so, with reluctance and great effort, she brought the man to her home. "You were floating down a river, so I kind of… saved you." She offered a lame smile.

"I was…?" He grimaced, and flopped back down onto the bed. But then he suddenly snapped back up. "Why am I naked?"

Minerva blushed, turning away. "Your clothes were wet, obviously."

"Can I put them on now?"

"Yeah, sure… I'll.. go… get them." Rushing out of the room, she told herself to calm down. _He's nothing. In a few days, he'll be out of here because he'll have recovered._ Her breathing slowed, and she opened the door to the balcony, where she found his clothes. She had suspicions that this man was not some innocent guy who'd fallen into the river. For one thing, his clothes were charred black in places, and there were bloodstains on them. Her breathing increased with her anxiety as she pondered the possibility.

_Am I hiding a criminal in my house?_

* * *

"Ma'am?"

There was a knock on the Colonel's door. The black haired beauty snapped up from her thoughts and cleared her throat. "Come in." The door slid open with a soft **hiss,** revealing her lieutenant, Charles Schwarz. Her eyes followed him as he walked in, stiffly, as though he had bad news to bring. But what bad news could there be? I mean, could anything worse happen?

"Ma'am?" A timid voice.

"What is it?" she snapped.

"The crew is worried about you." A simple statement. So obvious and insignificant, yet the impact was great. The Colonel shifted uncomfortably.

"Why's that?"

Schwarz hesitated, running a hand through his blonde hair. "Well, you just don't seem to be yourself lately. You're more quiet… Not as aggressive." He turned his head to the side, looking out the window, at the battlefield where they'd fought a few days prior. Clearing his throat, he took a step closer to her.

"Is there something you want to talk about?"

She didn't respond, instead looking at the base where she'd lost Zero. The hole was visible, even from here. It was like the gate to Hell, in her eyes. Rather, it had become like that due to… recent events.

"Ma'am, we _won_ that battle. The Admiral may've defeated you, but what of it-" Her hand shot out and gripped his throat, not enough to choke him – just enough to silence the young man.

"Defeatists will not be tolerated." They made eye contact for a few awkward moments before she let him go roughly, shoving him backwards. "My pride's all I have left, understand?" The Lieutenant obviously didn't, but he nodded anyway.

"Yes ma'am… sorry…." He slunk away, the door closing behind him. So that was the story. She was mad that she'd lost to the Admiral. That was all.

Jean was a good actress. While she was a bit upset she'd lost, she was mainly upset over another matter…

* * *

"Wow, this is interesting."

"What's that?" Bernard looked up from his desk. The intern, Brian, dropped a folder in front of him. It was very official looking, not at all the kind of stuff he was used to reporting. Picking it up gingerly, he looked to Brian for an answer. But Brian waited until he was seated back in his desk before answering.

"Escaped prisoner, look at that. First thing you're gonna report on the six o'clock news." Bernard's eyebrows arched up, impressed. He wondered how the government was going to butcher this one up. Just the other day, he remembered the most bullshit story in recent memory. A woman had been mugged by a gang of teenagers, who were "arrested." In reality, those "teenagers" were actually Squad Ten of the police force (off-duty at the time), who'd had too much to drink. No charges were brought up.

"You know, Brian, this kind of shit really pisses me off."

Brian looked up from his desk, surprised. "Chill out, man."

"Brian, I've been the anchor of the six o'clock news for ten years, and I honestly think only about a tenth of the stories that've come out of my mouth were genuine."

Brian sighed and shrugged. "I don't understand, man. You're getting paid a shitload."

"Yeah, but sometimes I just want to do the right thing, you know what I'm saying?"

He shook his head. "No, I don't. I just want a payraise."

Bernard rolled his eyes and turned back to the folder. "That's all you young people want. Money money money." Removing the chip from the folder, Bernard jammed it into his computer and waited for it to load.

"Bernard, I live in a shitty apartment and my girlfriend is one more missed bill from dumping my ass. The only thing that's keeping her staying is my good looks. I think I deserve a little time to worry about _money money money._"

Bernard cringed just as the file finished loading. "Eesh. Sorry about that." There was a pause. "Since you're so good looking, why don't you be a model or something?" Brian scoffed, throwing his hands in the air and letting them fall into his laps. "What?" Bernard asked, turning away from his computer.

"You're not gonna offer me some financial help?"

"You'll be fine, kid. Grin it and bear it." His brows furrowed. "You were right, this is interesting." He laughed. "This one seems legit."

"Why? The government's admitting they fucked up?"

"Yeah, actually, and - Holy shit. The Precinct is going into Code Yellow."

"Jeez! He's a dangerous one."

"Genesis member, apparently."

"Why they didn't they shoot the bum when they caught him?"

"Interrogation gone wrong, I suppose."

The men were silent briefly. Then Bernard shrugged. "Back to work. Gotta figure out what the hell I'm gonna say…"

"No bullshit."

"Please…," Bernard said with a laugh. "Here in Marston Channel Nine News, we report the news, not fabricate it."

"Fabrication is the government's job."

* * *

I hugged the sheets until she was out of sight.

I supposed I was a lucky man. Wait, so let's recap. I was flying in the biggest mechnaught I'd ever seen, when suddenly several blips appeared on my radar, and my machine started falling. I nodded slowly as though I understood. Right. Those Marston folks had came after me. But still, the details were blurry. Maybe it had all happened too fast for me to register? I groaned and got off the bed, momentarily forgetting that I was naked.

I looked around. A window behind me. A table and two chairs with a computer perched on the table. A bookshelf with books and stuffed animals. A door left ajar – the way she'd gone. From the living room, I heard someone talking, although it didn't sound like it came from a person's mouth. Was it coming from a TV? I was about to leave the room when I realized I was stark naked, and hurried back inside.

_"…Authorities are still searching for the escaped prisoner, who crash landed off the coast of the Seventeenth Precinct. It is widely believed that the suspect is dead, however the sheriff believes otherwise…. Yeah, you know, we've long learned that if we can't find a body, then they're probably still out there, so we're trying our best to apprehend him, worst comes to worst, the army gets involved….. There you have it. A picture of the suspect. As you can see, he's got long black hair and dark eyes, looks pretty fit. If you see the suspect, please call the hotline…. In addition, citizens are strongly advised not to go out if unnecessary, due to the present situation. Effective immediately, the Precinct is going into Code Yellow. Thanks for tuning in, folks. This is Bernard Fields of the Channel Nine News. Back to you, Rika."_

The TV was shut off, and the footsteps began traveling upstairs, closer to the room I was in.


	20. Deception

**XX. Deception**

She was scared.

Why shouldn't she be? Minerva had just watched the news and realized what she'd done. The man in her room was a criminal, and one as tough as nails, apparently, to be able to escape from prison. But he certainly didn't look like a criminal. See, Marston's Justice system was a load of shit, and half the times, you couldn't even tell if the person convicted was the real thing. So she was at crossroads here, not knowing what to do. Turn him in? Or let him go and pretend nothing ever happened? He couldn't stay – that much was certain. With the Precinct in Code Yellow, troops would be making rounds randomly checking homes.

Minerva just happened to have bad luck too.

She paused before the door, not knowing what to do. Holding onto the man's clothes, she thought over her options. Run to the nearest phone and report him. Risk him killing her. Hide him and let him go later, when he's better. Or throw him out now (if possible). In the end, she decided she couldn't do any of the three, and simply decided to keep him here. With a deep breath, she pushed the door open.

* * *

The door opened, and I held my breath.

What was she going to do? The way I saw it, she was an awful kind soul who would let me stay in her home, or a normal person who would turn me in, possibly kill me. Sheepishly, I held the sheets around my waste, wondering if I was dirtying her bed. But hey, she was the one who put me in it first, right? "Here're your clothes," she said, handing me a bundle of rags.

Dang.

I looked at her expectantly for a few seconds before she got the point and turned around, after which, I hurriedly slipped my clothes on. As I did so, I observed a few things about the girl I was residing in. Lady Luck was keeping up my streak of meeting beautiful women it seemed; she was gorgeous as well. But different from Jean. This girl – Minerva – had silver hair, and a slim body. Absent was the military uniform I was accustomed to seeing, and before me, I saw a petite girl in a white sundress-type thing. _No, don't think like that,_ I told myself, tearing my eyes away. I quickly zipped my pants and cleared my throat, signaling that I was done.

"I'm decent now," I reported, and she turned around.

"Hnn," she said simply, and turned to leave.

"Wait," I suddenly said. I hesitated, and clenched my fists. She had to have seen what was on the TV earlier. Was she frightened? I didn't want to make her feel uneasy. But at the same time, I knew I couldn't just leave – the city was crawling with troops at the moment. "Erm, about the report on the TV earlier…."

"Don't worry – I'm not turning you in."

I blinked. She knew. Or did she? "Look," I began. "They have the wrong guy. I'm not some kind of psycho terrorist like they make me out to be."

"I wouldn't doubt that," she replied with a shrug. "The government does that a lot – passing the blame around." The silver-haired girl turned to leave again. "I didn't get your name."

I hesitated again, my voice faltering. "I-I don't remember it." She turned and stared at me for a long, awkward moment before nodding understandingly.

"I see…," she whispered, and left the room.

* * *

Rene Shin lay in the comfort of her bed, looking up at the dreary ceiling. Lately, ceiling seemed to have gotten lower – bearing down on her. But no, it was an illusion, she thought. An illusion, and perhaps some kind of sick parallelism to her life. She recalled now – a few hours ago, the exchange that had taken place between a General and herself. His name was Bradley. That was what his nickname told her.

"Master Sergeant Rene Shin?"

Rene's back stiffened up, and she looked up at her superior. "Sir."

"Another promotion. Congratulations." Bradley's hand reached forward – brushing her chest as if by accident. She hadn't thought much of it at the time. Accidents happened. "Second Lieutenant Rene Shin." The man extended his hand for Rene to shake. Startled, she merely looked at his hand briefly before grasping it.

"If you ever need anything, give me a call. We need more good soldiers like _you_," the man said with a smile. Yes, a smile. What's wrong with that, you ask? Nothing, if you're not observant. But Second Lieutenant Shin wasn't a novice – she spotted and interpreted things others couldn't. As their hands touched, she understood, and a stream of words poured into her head.

_Brad._

_This man makes me sick to my stomach. There's such a sick irony in his name – it carries a part of your name in it, but he has none of your qualities. He's not handsome like you – his face is even scarred. But I can tell it's not the shrapnel-induced kind. It's the kind one gets when they are scratched in the face by an angry lady. After spending a minute with this man, I know he is the kind I should never approach._

_Bradley is not honorable, like you._

_He congratulated me. Promoted me. It felt good, I suppose. His hand then brushed my chest – a cheeky move, now that I think about it. But there is little I can do about it. Accidents happen. Like… like __**you.**__ You didn't die because the bastard outskilled you._

_Luck. That's all it was. Lack, thereof._

_He smiled at me. It's not the kind of smile you see from your friends or family. It's the kind you see from an animal unrestrained by its instincts. I know what he wants – I don't care if you call me prejudiced, arrogant, judgmental, or all those other nice words. There is something he wants, and he's making me an offer to get it._

_I shook his hand. He held my hand briefly. A bit too long._

_Those extra two seconds speak volumes._

* * *

"Minerva?"

"Yes?" She looked up at him from her modest dinner consisting of noodles. An identical bowl of the same meal was put out in front of her guest as well, who was seated across from her in the living room. The TV flashed quietly in the background, its volume barely audible.

"Thank you for everything you've done for me," he began, and she scoffed.

"I haven't really done anything."

"No, you went out of your way to save me." The man paused and turned away to the TV. "I thank you for that."

"It was noth-"

"I dunno, I suppose I don't expect to meet many people like that anymore." Zero turned back to her and grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, I'm making dinner uncomfortable. But I just thought it had to be said."

"Well it didn't," she snapped, her face turning pink. As she bent her head down for another slurp, she noticed the change in hue of her face. _It's from the heat of the noodles, dear._ But she had to ponder the question implied in his comments. Why had she saved him? Heck, why was she going so far for him? Her mind went back briefly to an event in the past; something she'd always tried to put aside.

_Don't think about it. Because it wasn't what it seemed._

"Instead of thanking _me,_ you should be thanking the Gods you're alive." Zero gave a soft laugh and looked up at her.

"Well, if Gods existed, I would be doing that right now."

"So they don't exist."

He gave her a strange smile – the kind that says, "_You know better than to ask me that._"

_

* * *

"Any luck?"_

Wilson's voice buzzed over the intercom. Rene shook her head, frowning. "Negative."

_"I heard about your promotion, by the way. Congrats."_

The newly-made Second Lieutenant scoffed, and shook her head. "Aren't you going to add 'Ma'am,' to the end of that?"

_"…ma'am."_ She laughed and made a soft "tsk" noise. Turning to her squad of armed soldiers, she motioned to the apartment complex they were outside of.

"Ma'am, you think this'll be the one?"

"I have a good feeling about it," Rene replied with a nod, smiling in a sinister manner.

"Isn't this like trying to find a needle in a haystack?" Rene froze, and the squad fell silent all of a sudden. The motto of the army was, _Impossible is nothing._ So who dared go against that? Rene scanned the faces, but she could read nothing because of the gas masks. The tension seemed to be steadily building, everyone's heart-rate increasing.

"What's a haystack?" someone suddenly asked, and the tension was broken. Laughing in spite of herself, Rene shook her head and motioned to the double glass doors.

"Same drill. We each take one floor. If you see him, stay hidden and call for the others. We're going to take him down in one blow, got it?"

"Ma'am!"

"Let's move."


	21. Intersection

**XXI. Intersection**

**Bam bam bam!**

_"Marston Military! Open up!"_ Minerva almost spat her soup out as the sound reached her ears. With alarm, she looked to Zero, whose eyes were as wide as saucers. Mouthing the word, "hide," she picked up his bowl and hurried over to the sink, dumping it in. **Bam bam bam!** The female on the other side of the door spoke again, agitated. _"Open up! This is the last time I will ask!"_

"I'm coming!" she yelled frantically, and looked around for Zero. No sign of him. She just had to hope he was going to stay that way. Breaking out into a cold sweat, she ran over to the door and opened it. Minerva was met with the barrel of a rifle – holding that, a soldier. Without warning, they stormed into her home, muddy boots and all, yelling. Following orders. Things a soldier did.

"Nice place you got here." Minerva raised an eyebrow and straightened up in surprise. A woman in uniform stepped into the apartment, and immediately, Minerva was struck by how beautiful she looked. But more than that, the woman – presumably the woman in charge – had quite a gaze. It was so intense, it seemed as though everything the woman looked at would burst into flames.

Minerva remained silent, retreating one footstep with every advance the soldier made. "Ma'am! All clear! Moving onto-"

"Hold it," she hissed, and the soldiers paused. "Wait outside." Without hesitation, they left the way they came, their boots thundering all around. A moment later, Minerva found herself (and Zero) alone with the woman.

"Do you smell that?" she suddenly asked of Minerva.

"Smell what?"

The woman's nose crinkled a few times in rapid succession as she breathed in the air in her room. "Smells like the ocean."

"Does it?"

"Yes…," she smiled. "I remember our friend – the escaped fugitive – had eluded us by plunging into the ocean." Minerva almost breathed in sharply. Instead, she made a strange "hrmph" sound – one akin to an expression of disdain.

"Uhh, how nice." Minerva's heart began to beat faster and faster as the lady began venturing deeper into her dwelling. She reached the dinner table.

"You're having lunch?" she asked, picking up the spoon and taking a sip – no regard for hygiene. "Mm, quite good."

"Yes." Minerva watched as the lady ran her hand across the surface of the table. And suddenly paused.

"Who're you having it with?" Her intense expression turned to one of mild confusion as she repeatedly rubbed a spot on the table. Minerva suddenly realized. Even if she'd gotten rid of the bowl, the heat signature was still there. Two people. Two "hot spots."

_Christ._

"Myself," she replied, her voice on the verge of shaking.

"I'm sorry to hear that…," she whispered, and reached into her back pocket, removing a small pistol. She began walking towards the living room – where the TV was. _Oh God._ Minerva could only watch helplessly as the woman stepped closer and closer to her target. _Don't. Please…_ The lady with the gun drew nearer and nearer to the back of the abode, where the man was…

_"Bzzt. Ma'am! We've found him! He's cruising down Main in a car – Jaywalkers after him."_

She froze, and for a long moment, didn't say anything. "Understood." Almost angrily, she turned around sharply and stormed out of the apartment, leaving behind a very frightened and confused Minerva.

* * *

I can't remember the last time I was so scared.

I was shaking – my legs actually vibrating against the wooden paneling of a closet.

Even after she left, I still felt the "fight or flight" feeling coursing through my body. It was strange. I didn't feel like this when I was piloting. The chances of dying in one of those are enormous compared to what I just went through. Perhaps I knew she would have found me if her comm. unit hadn't gone off. But that got me thinking, "Who was it?" Perhaps there had been a mistake.

Maybe someone was looking out for him.

"You can come out now," a voice called out, shaky. Slowly, I opened the closet door and stumbled out. Minerva was visibly shaken, pale, and looked weak. I walked towards her, trying not to lose balance. "That was scariest thing that's ever happened to me…," she murmured, and fell forward.

Dashing forward, I quickly caught her in my arms, her face buried in my chest. Her shoulders rose up and down, and there were weird sounds coming from her. I felt my shirt getting moist, but did nothing to prevent it. This was all my fault. If only I hadn't…

What, washed ashore?

"I'm sorry…"

* * *

"Where is he?" Rene shouted, upon arriving at the scene.

"I'm terribly sorry ma'am, I've made a mistake." An armored man walked over to her and stood at attention. Although his face was masked, one could easily tell he was frightened right down to his underwear. In fact, cold sweat was leaking out from under his helmet. Strain your ears, and you might hear his jittery breathing. "I'm ready for-"

**Wham!**

With a sudden swift motion, Rene drew her pistol and whipped him across the face, earning a loud **crack!** and a "augh!" The helmet actually split open from the force, revealing a bleeding face beneath. "You _useless creature!_" she spat, and turned on her heel, leaving the man gripping his face.

"Continue searching. And _no more false alarms._"

"Ma'am!"

* * *

"We have to leave, now."

Minerva looked up at him in confusion. "What do you mean, 'we'?" she asked, her eyes narrowed. But Zero couldn't stay still – even as he talked, he was rummaging through her house – opening cabinets, thrusting open drawers, and turning over her furniture. She had a half-mind to stop him, but after what she'd been through, she found it hard to even breathe.

"I mean 'we' – Myself, and anyone else that's had contact with me since I landed." He paused and turned to Minerva, giving her an apologetic shrug. "That means you and me." She got up and ran over to him, forcing him to stop.

"That's bullshit! Leave if you want. But why do _I_ have to go too?"

Zero turned to her and gave her a look of disbelief. "Haven't you figured it out yet? That was a false alarm before – she's going to _come back_ and look for me, when she realizes it." Zero yanked his arm out of her grip. "She's going to find me, and it'll be off with your head too, if we don't leave."

"I still don't understand…" Frustrated, Zero grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her on the overturned sofa. Surprised and frightened, she could only emit a small "eep," as she was thrown down. After the rough handling, she found herself looking up at – not an angry face – a sad expression.

"Okay. The woman _knows_ I was here. You're going to be taken in for _questioning,_ but there won't be any actual questioning. Understand?" Minerva gasped. It made sense now. As the feeling hit home, her eyes began glistening, and welled up.

"Oh God." Her hands covered her face, and the moisture began rolling down her face. "Oh God…"

Zero nodded in satisfaction.

"That's more like it. Now let's get moving."


	22. Vacancy

**XXII. Vacancy**

**Bam!**

The door flew open with one kick, and soldiers immediately flooded the apartment. _"All clear,"_ the soldiers murmured as they immediately checked and double-checked every possible hiding place. Even the TV was not spared. The news reporter still yammering away on the screen was replaced by static, then broken glass as a soldier emptied his magazine into the machinery. _"Looks like they just left,"_ someone commented, noting the disarray of everything – clothes everywhere, dishes still in the sink, some of them broken on the ground. All the while, Rene sat at the dining table quietly, trying to keep her anger in check.

_Calm down._

The bowl of soup she saw before was still here, unfinished. Heck, if her memory served her correctly, that bitch had not taken _a single sip._ Was it just here for show? _Perhaps… they're mocking your folly,_ she thought to herself, growing angrier by the second. She thought back to the guy who'd called in the false alarm. What was his name, Jenkins? Private Jenkins? Who allowed that idiot to communicate with her anyway?

_Maybe he's a spy._

Impossible. She'd already called for a background check on him, and nothing odd had turned up. If anything, Rene felt she should take pity on him – he was from the rural areas, not very wealthy. He didn't join the army because he wanted to, but because his family needed money. But it was unfortunate none of this had reached her ears before she broke the man's jaw. Taking a sip from the soup, the Master Sergeant made a mental note to visit him in the infirmary and apologize.

"_Ma'am, the apartment is clear."_

**Crash!** In a fit of anger, disappointment, and desperation, Rene swept her arm across the table, knocking the bowl into the wall, smashing it. "I want a man on every floor of this building, and a squad patrolling every block within the mile. Randomly check passerby."

"_Ma'am!"_

* * *

"Do you think they're onto us yet?"

I looked at Minerva, who appeared nervous. I didn't blame her. If anything, I blamed myself. _What have I gotten her into?_ I thought sullenly as I led her down the street, hoping to find a hiding spot as soon as possible. The everyday crowd was fine for now, but once the soldiers realized they had been duped, and returned to the streets...

"More than likely. We have to find shelter, quickly."

She gave my hand a squeeze. I faltered in my steps briefly, but quickly corrected myself as if it had been nothing. _What are you thinking? She's nervous, that's all._ I quickened my pace, dragging the girl along with me. I half wished I was alone. I would have been a hundred times more sufficient, and I would only need to look after myself. _But_, I reasoned…

_Having someone with me kept me sane._

"I think a hotel will do for now."

I spotted a hotel in the distance, and began heading for it. But as I did so, I felt some resistance. Minerva tugged on my arm, as if telling me not to go. "What's wrong?"

"…Do we have to go to a hotel?" she murmured, looking to the side. I raised an eyebrow. Oh come on, was she really getting worked up over this? "I mean, I could call some friends, and ask for th-"

"No." I sighed in exasperation. I didn't understand how this chick could be so naïve. "Think about it. They more than likely caught onto our escape. That means they'll be calling all of the people you know, _waiting until you contact them._ The second you do that, they'll know where you are."

Minerva looked at me briefly as though I were crazy. I suppose I did look crazy back there, yammering away. I had begun attracting some strange looks… which was definitely not good. "Come on, we better get ou-"

"Excuse me," a voice behind me said.

* * *

The soldier stopped him.

_Oh Christ._ Immediately, Minerva thought back to the lady from before. The one with the intense gaze. Even though this clearly wasn't Rene, her experience from before had left an impact. Minerva hadn't exactly lived a hard life, so it was somewhat natural to react the way she did.

"What is it?" Zero turned and asked of him, feigning perfect innocence.

"Terrorist is on the loose. You lovebirds best get back to the nest."

"We're-," she began, but Zero quickly cut in.

"Thanks, officer. Take care." And he steered her away. When they had turned into the next corner, and out of the soldier's earshot, Minerva shoved him, fuming.

"What was that?!"

"We were almost caught."

"No!" she continued walking. "He's got the wrong idea!"

Zero rolled his eyes. "The wrong idea is going to help us _a lot_ here." It was true. The soldiers were convinced that Zero was a terrorist. While it was possible, what was the chance of the terrorist having a girlfriend willing to help him evade the law? It was ridiculous. But Minerva here was still worrying about appearances, and "giving the wrong ideas." "It's gonna be fine," he reassured her.

"If you say so."

* * *

"Ma'am, I think I found him."

An image was being downloaded to Rene's screen. On it was a confused male and a frightened female, from the point of view of someone talking to them. The man's lips were half-parted, as though he were in the middle of saying something. The girl's eyes were round as saucers, and her face looked pale. The image quality wasn't the best, but it wouldn't even have mattered if the image were mere pixels, or construction paper taped together.

Rene would know the bastard anywhere. _Why did it have to be like this?_ She thought, looking sadly at her screen. "It's him," she confirmed, but her voice didn't carry the strong voice it once did. She sounded tired.

"Apprehend him?" the soldier who took the shot asked. "They seem to be heading-"

"Follow him. One man every twelve hours. Keep it inconspicuous."

"Yes ma'am."

The voice on the other line disappeared, and Rene was left feeling more alone than she did before. _Why?_ She continued staring at the picture. Rene would know the face anywhere – after spending upwards of fifteen years together, it would be strange if she didn't. But what surprised her was the fact that she was seeing it _now._ The image was taken less than five minutes ago. But it had been reported that he had disappeared, or rather, _passed away_, more than a year ago.

_What made you do this?_

Rene looked at the picture for a few more seconds, trying to read his expression. See what made him tick. The Master Sergeant suddenly wished the picture was more clear.

_Why am I fighting Ray?_

A tear managed to leak from the confines of her emotions, and frustrated, angry, and disappointed, she launched her gloved fist into the screen, punching a hole through where "Ray's" face was a second ago.

_Why am I fighting my brother?_


	23. I'm Not There

**XXIII. I'm Not There**

"Colonel, what do you make of this?"

The black-haired female seated in the commander's seat was all smiles as she read the headlines on the screen. Just when she'd finally accepted Zero's fate, news arrived that a "terrorist was loose," and that an entire precinct was going into Yellow Mode because of this. At the moment, Jean didn't know whether to feel angry at the man for making her worry, or happy because he was alive. While she began to suspect it, she couldn't bring herself to believe it.

"He is one lucky fella…."

Jean was in love.

She told herself this wasn't the case – and maybe it wasn't. But she had been thinking an awful lot about _him_ in particular after the fiasco. Perhaps he had simply been the most interesting person on the ship. But the headlines gave her new hope, and she was suddenly vivid as ever.

"Point us towards precinct seventeen and go in slow."

**

* * *

Fshhh….**

The water cascaded around her, casting a sort of aura over her. Sweat was replaced by simple water and soap as the fluids came spraying out of the nozzle. Warm water slowly rose in the tub where she resided, removed of her garments. After some time, the tub was nearly filled to the brim with water and soap. A slice of heaven. Minerva closed her eyes in satisfaction – after the day's _chaotic_ events, a hot bath was exactly what she needed.

The silver-haired girl reflected on the day's events. What had happened had actually taken place over a few days, but it was _this day_ in particular that was frightening. For perhaps two or three days, the man had been in a coma on her bed – forcing her to sleep on the sofa. Minerva sometimes had to wonder why she was so kind – at least, kind enough as to give him her bed. Was it really out of kindness? She also had to ask herself a very scary question.

_If he wasn't so good looking, would I have saved him back then?_

That's not to say she saved him solely because of his looks. She probably would have called for help rather than drag him back to her home. As she stared at the ceiling, her vision half-obscured by the mist, she narrowed her eyes, shaking her head.

_This is stupid. Why am I thinking about these things?_

What's done was done. Nothing could change that.

Minerva closed her eyes, enjoying the peace and quiet. **Creak…** With a simple sound, her ears suddenly perked up, and her eyes snapped open. The door to the room had opened. Her newfound paranoia kicking in full force, she stayed completely still for a moment, waiting for the inevitable – the clomping of soldiers' boots, the cocking of rifles, and the barking of orders.

Nothing.

For a few awkward minutes, the only sound that she could hear was the quiet splashing of the water. "Zero?" she called out, when she was sure that there were no soldiers outside. She expected a lazy 'What?' but never received one. Anxiety growing by the second, she quickly but carefully rose out of the warm water, pulling a towel around her. "Zero?" she said again, louder this time.

Standing in the bathroom feeling scared and foolish, she began shaking. In a quivering voice, she shouted, "Zero!"

Her expectant ears were met by silence. _Oh my God,_ she thought, remembering the door opening. Quickly unlocking the door, she sprang out of the bathroom, flinging water and soap bubbles all over the place. "Zero!" she yelled, on the verge of tears. When she exited the bathroom, her eyes were met by two vacant beds. Behind her, the door was slightly ajar, a thin ray of light entering their temporary residence.

_He's… gone…_

The girl fell to her knees, staring at the empty room. _Is that how it is?_ She thought as the moisture ran down her face. _You come into my life so suddenly, and leave so suddenly?_ Unable to think straight, she simply sat there on the carpeted floor, not bothering to close the door. _What am I supposed to do?_

_Where are you?_

* * *

Rene sat motionless at the broken monitor, having not budged from her spot for the last few hours. She had the bastard in her hands – men were on his tail, rotating every twelve hours. With technology this advanced, and men this skilled, she was practically a God, able to know his every move. Take now for example. A comm. unit buzzed to life, a soldier reporting to her. _"Bzzt. He's left the hotel."_

"Where is he going?"

"_Down the street, and…. Into a store… a clothing store?"_

The Second Lieutenant's eyebrows furrowed, and she removed her pistol from its holster, stroking the cold gunmetal as she thought. _"Do you think there's a chance this isn't the guy?"_ The thought _had_ crossed her mind, but she needed to keep tailing him. Criminal or not, the person – her brother – was a person of interest to her.

"Doubt it. He matches the description," she replied, and began absentmindedly disassembling the gun. "Keep tailing him. He'll probably be returning to the hotel soon."

"_Yes ma'am."_

Removing the hammer, she suddenly thought of something. "Oh, and if it's not too much trouble, find out what room they're in, and get the room next door."

"_Huh? Why?"_

"I have a plan."

* * *

"Would she like this?"

I looked at the outfit on display. From what I remembered and understood, girls loved gifts. Even better, girls loved gifts if the gifts were clothes. With a small smile, I looked at the white dress/skirt thing. _What's the damage on this?_ I thought, looking at the price. My eyes widened into saucers when I saw the tag, but I couldn't shake the feeling that Minerva would love this. _Anything to please her._

_Why do I need to please her at all?_ I thought with a frown, feeling the muscles in my face clench. That was a good question, wasn't it? Was it because it was because of me she was going through this? Would a gift make her feel better that her life had been destroyed? Was I hoping to keep her happy so she was less angry about following me around?

Better yet, did I have ulterior motives?

"A gift for your girlfriend?" a voice behind me said, and startled, I turned around. Behind me was an attractive salesperson – another woman. _Just keep bringing the luck, God,_ I thought with a smile as I looked down at her.

"Something like that. I also need some clothes too." She cocked her head to the side and smiled.

"Can I offer you my assistance?"

* * *

"_Ma'am, he's returning to the hotel."_

"Proceed as scheduled." Rene sat before a newly-installed monitor, rubbing her hand. For a few hours, she'd forgotten about the pain, but now it hurt. Making a mental note not to demolish another screen, she looked back at her subordinate, who just happened to be an attractive woman that looked like she worked in a clothing store. "One Jaywalker on each corner of the block on stand-by. I doubt we'll need them, but better safe than sorry."

"_Ma'am, are you sure it's the right person?"_

"What makes you think it's not?"

"_I don't know. A feeling I get from him, I guess."_

"Read the Starter Manual again," Rene replied curtly, and cut the connection.

* * *

The door creaked open, the person opening it apparently confused.

Minerva looked up in fright, and cursed under her breath at her blunder. _Oh no. They realized they forgot you, so they're coming back._ Eyes still red from tears, she did the only thing she knew how to do – curl up on a ball and wait. The lights from the hall hit her, and she felt it, but she did not lift her eyelids. _It'll be over soon. They'll drag you away, and-_

"What are you doing?" Her heart damn near stopped. "You look like you're having a mental breakdown."

_It's not so far off from the truth,_ she thought resentfully.

"What are _you_ doing?" she replied, looking up at Zero, who shrugged.

"Happy birthday," he said, and dropped a package before her. Minerva simply looked at the box, dumbfounded. _That's right. It's my birthday._ "I looked through your phone to make sure you hadn't called anyone. There was a reminder on the screen….," he admitted, looking to the side whilst scratching his head.

"This is what you were doing?" she said, looking up at him in a bit of anger and happiness.

"I was going to hurt back before you finished your bath, but…" He blinked. "Why're you wearing just a towel?" Minerva suddenly laughed and gave him a slap on the arm.

"You have no idea how worried I was…," she said, wiping her tears away.

"I'm sorry," he said, sitting down next to her. Zero was suddenly overcome by a feeling of awkwardness – he didn't know how to console a crying girl. Damnit, he'd already given her a gift. Why couldn't she be happy already? It seems his actions had made things worse. Doing the only thing that made sense to him, he wrapped his arms around her.

"I won't do it again," he said. She didn't reply. "I promise."

Slowly, she turned her head. "Thank you," she whispered, and kissed him on the cheek.


	24. Hotel Shootout

**XXIV. Hotel Shootout**

Minerva snored soundly in the adjacent bed while I sat on mine, facing the open window. The night breeze was nice – it carried the scent of metal, someone's groceries, and crime on it. All the good stuff this city had to offer. But above all, it cleared my mind – at one in the morning. With a groan, I stood up off the bed and stood, looking outside. I saw lights in the distance, some of them moving – mechnaughts. They were hunting while everyone was asleep.

_Unfortunately, I can't sleep._ Not since what happened a few hours ago. The warmth of her lips was still on my cheek, and it pulsated now and then like the beating of a heart. As far as I recalled, it was the first time someone had done that.

It felt nice.

Rubbing my cheek slowly, I smirked to myself, and immediately felt disgusted with myself. No. I wasn't supposed to seduce her. What was wrong with me? Had I even succeeded? Maybe it was an overly nice way to add gratitude to your "thank you." Still, the sensation never left, and Minerva was always on my mind. Turning my head slowly, I looked over at her – sleeping so peacefully mere hours after her life had been ruined. How did she pull it off?

**Clump clump clump clump….**

A peculiar sound hit my ear – footsteps. Normally, this would have been normal. But at one in the morning? Unless you were looking to sell your body, you usually didn't scamper around this late. Eyes narrowed, I watched from my post as soldiers began pouring out of a truck I thought was vacant. Immediately, my heartbeat quickened, and I felt the surge of adrenaline. To make matters worse, mechnaughts – the police kind – were heading from down the street.

_Christ, what should I do?_

I heard the main doors open below, along with yelling and stomping. Was I the only one aware of this? Next door to my left, a couple was making love – the kind that lasts for a few hours tops. Trying to ignore the carnal sounds and my own rising instincts, I paced back and forth, thinking of what to do. As I made up my mind to wake Minerva up, several mechnaughts arrived – all of them mono-eyed with a spike on their heads. Soldiers began hopping out of the hatches, rushing into the building. I made note of the neglected hatches.

"Minerva, wake up." I shook her roughly by the shoulder. She groaned, eyes fluttering. But within a second, she'd turned over and fallen asleep again. _Damnit._ "Wake up, damnit!" I cried, shaking her entire body this time.

"…What is it?"

"We're getting out of here."

* * *

"_A-Squad, proceeding as planned."_

"Good. B-Squad?"

"_Stationed in the lobby. Five seconds ahead of schedule."_

"Terrific. C-Squad?"

"_Heading to the roof. Exactly on time."_

"Excellent. D-Squad with remain in their mechnaughts on standby. E will hide a few blocks away, waiting for my signal. We're going to catch this bastard tonight, understand?"

"_Ma'am!"_ Rene nodded in satisfaction and leaned back in her seat. This was perfect. She'd thought of everything for tonight. They were going to attack late at night when he was sleeping – hopefully. Perhaps he was wiser, and stayed up to be on alert. But he was only human, and she couldn't see him staying up pat twelve. That said, she was going to strike while the iron was hot. Both methods of exit – the ceiling and the lobby were cut off – jumping out of a window might have been feasible were he alone, but seeing as how he had frail company, she didn't see that happening either. All that was left was for the plan to be put into motion.

"Check…"

**

* * *

Bam!**

The door flew open under the force of a booted kick, the assailant yelling, "Get down on the ground!"

Except… he never finished his sentence, because the door closed right back – onto his hand. There was a yell of pain from the other side, and a clatter as the man dropped the submachine gun. Without missing a beat, Zero ducked down and scooped up the gun, immediately turning around to spray all the bullets at the door, and consequently, the folks behind it.

**Brrt brrt brrt!**

"Argh! Ah! Oh! AHHH!"

The sounds were unpleasant, to say the least, but believe me when I say Zero felt the weight of every life he took. These were simply ordinary people doing their jobs. "Nothing personal," he murmured, and when all was quiet, he kicked down the remains of the door, observing the damage.

Unfortunate that his room had been at the end of a hall – there had been no place to sidestep or dodge. Even then, he couldn't be sure. With a heavy heart, he pointed the gun at each of the men's heads, and shot once. _Dead check._ Tossing the gun aside, he stole two pistols, several magazines, and two more SMG's. Tossing one to Minerva for good measure, he continued down the hallway.

"Minerva, stand near the window and wait."

* * *

"A-squad?"

There was no answer from the other line. A growing sense of frustration in her chest, she calmed herself down before proceeding. _I need to warn the others,_ she thought. Switching her channel, she spoke. "Everyone. This guy is good – really good. A-squad has been taken out. He will now be heading to one of your locations. Be on alert."

"_Ma'am!"_ Though it was just a brief confirmation, Rene already knew her subordinates were scared. _Hang in there._ Leaning back in her chair, she sat deep in thought. Although her plan was supposed to be foolproof, the man had done the impossible twice already. He'd escaped from jail and eluded capture. All in one day. With a sigh, she looked outside the window, where she saw her newly-upgraded Stallion on standby. Instead of the ubiquitous Sentinel booster found on most military mechs, Rene had requested that the prototype Prowler be installed. It was said to be on par with the Sentinel's performance – at a more efficient rate.

"Just in case…," she whispered, walked out the door.

* * *

I wasn't proud of the way I did things.

But did I have a choice? As I walked down the hall quietly but quickly, on alert. I never knew when one of the doors was going to open, and soldiers come pouring out. I suppose I should have expected this to happen – the government was a cautious one. But I suspected that this wasn't the government's idea – could they cook something up so… low, as to attack someone in their sleep? Stopping at a corner, I peeked around it, making sure. _All clear._

**Creak…** The door to the stairs opened, and I again, peeked inside. I needed to do this quick. Although the squad at my room was dead, Minerva was inside… What if a clean-up crew arrived? I thought back to the couple I heard next door. _I feel bad_, I thought, and hurried up the stairs. _Nothing I can do about that._

I made my way up the stairs, all the way to the top. I wondered if the men knew of my plan. It was to escape, yes – but in a most unexpected manner. Stopping before the door, I pressed my ear against it. Was there another squad beyond the door? A sense of foreboding swept through my mind as my hand neared the knob. I looked down at the light creeping in through the cracks, and saw gaps in the moonlight. _Should I risk it?_ I shook my head. I had a test in mind for them.

Stepping back down the stairs, I raised my automatic weapons and let loose. **RATARATARAT!**

The 35mm bullets punched through the metal door like paper, and flew beyond – into several soldiers' bodies. There were more shouts of pain, of alarm, and of misfortune as I empted the magazines. As soon as I heard the last decisive **click** from my weapons, I dropped them and hauled it. Back down the stairs. There had to have been soldiers hiding _next to_ the door, rather than _behind_ it. Sure enough, as I made it down to the tenth floor, I heard the door creak open behind me, someone shouting.

"_Ma'am! We've almost been annihilated! The bastard surprise attacked!"_

Somehow, hearing the words brought a strange sense of satisfaction to my ears. As I clearedanother flight of steps, I estimated a mechnaught's height. It couldn't have been more than ten stories, right? Opening the door to the ninth floor, I sprinted down the hall, to the window at the end of the hall. As fast as my legs could carry me, I pushed my body like a machine gone into overdrive. The doors and wallpaper next to me were nothing more than mere blurs. From behind, I heard the door open again, and bullets start flying. The walls around me exploded, as did the floor at my feet. I felt many bullets graze my skin, but I didn't stop. When I'd reached the end of the hall, I felt a jarring pain in my shoulder, causing me to stumble forward, flying into the window.

**CRASH!**

I could only hope now. Hope that there was a soft surface beneath me. As I gripped my shoulder in pain, I suddenly felt an impact course through my body. Although it hurt, I was grateful that the fall had not been as painful as it could have been. I then heard a weird beeping noise, and a **fshhh,** like an airlock opening. Slowly opening my eyes, I looked at where I was.

Christ, I was on a mechnaught.

* * *

Rene's comm. unit suddenly buzzed to life. Snatching the object up, she waited for the good news.

Except, it never came. There was a report about the squad on the roof being annihilated. _Again?_ Rene grunted in frustration as she punched the dash of her mechnaught. Nothing she could say could help these men. _Is this how it's going to be?_ Not even responding to the mens' cries of distress, she activated her mechnaught and waited. Something was going to happen, and the city was about to take a beating.

_**Fshhhh… **__"Ma'am… He's got a Jaywalker…"_

Bingo.


	25. Collision Course pt 1

**XXV. Collision Course pt. 1**

Someone had saved me. I was in the palm of a mechanaught's hand, either saved, or just fallen into a trap. But it didn't seem to be the latter, because the hand brought me up to the cockpit's hatch. I don't remember ever being more grateful in my life. It was one of the odder-looking models I'd seen. The head was a bit small, with a large antennae poking out above a single eye. The arms appeared to be heavily armored, with three large plates covering the shoulder area. Strapped to the back were two pods with red circles on the side. Lastly but not least, the legs appeared to be entirely constructed from large pistons. To top it all off, it had been painted blue and white, and branded with the word "Police."

"Get in! Hurry!" a female voice said from within. I reeled back in shock.

"Minerva?!"

The female within got out of the seat, ushering me inside. "Hurry! I have no idea how to operate this thing!" I grunted, gripping my shoulder as I strapped myself in. However, there was a jarring shake as a rifle shot hit my stolen mechnaught in the side, and the next thing I knew, Minerva was no longer right outside. With a yell, I looked down, and saw the girl falling amidst rubble and parts of my mechanaught. Yanking the controls down sharply, the same hand that had saved me then saved the blonde, catching her moments before impact. Before I had a chance to boost away, yet more ordinances rained down upon me as I stomped the pedals.

"_Left arm damaged."_ A robotic but feminine voice rang out next to me. The priority now was to get Minerva somewhere safe. The arm she was hanging onto was online half-functioning, and the other hand only carried an angular green shield. With a sigh, I turned to face the two assailants.

"You don't half to tell me that," I muttered as I looked at the mech diagnostics. Eyeballing the two before me, I quickly assessed how I was going to handle this. There was one in the air – I had fought those before. In fact, I remembered that the psycho bitch I had so frequently ran into piloted one of those. But this one didn't have a killer aura around it. That, and the number was different. It was holding what appeared to be two red pistols. But judging from the shots that had rained down before, the pistols were actually SMGs. Now the other was interesting. It vaguely reminded me of the enormous one I'd stolen to escape the prison, but this one wasn't as large, and it was quite colorful; purple and yellow. Gray in some places. A single eye on the rectangular head. Rifles in hand.

This was going to be hard, if not downright impossible.

"_Get out of the mech. Those were just warning shots before. Next time, we __**will**__ shoot to kill."_

_No kidding,_ I thought as I pondered what to do. I looked down at Minerva, who was still within the palm of my mech. She was the priority at the moment. I couldn't let her die, especially after she'd saved my life. Quickly, I jammed the pedals down, boosting backwards. Immediately, the pair began shooting. But I wasn't stationary this time. With a grunt, I lifted the mech's arm to the cockpit hatch, letting her inside. But this moment of hesitation was near costly.

There was a loud **boom** as one of the rifles shot true, and the damaged arm was blown off. Minerva cried out, falling towards me as the mech rocked. "Agh!" I yelled as her arm hit the controls, the mechnaught veering off to the side. Again, there was a roar and a **boom** as the mechnaught then collided with the side of a building, smashing right through it and bursting out the other side. Yanking the controls sharply to the left, I realized my mistake when Minerva nearly fell out of the open hatch.

"Hang on!" was all I could say as I tried to bring the mechnaught back under my control. The cockpit shook wildly as I tried to close the hatch. To make things worse, the boost energy had run out, and the mechnaught returned to simply running. I yelled as the heavy mechnaught from before slipped out from behind a corner, guns blazing. I could hear the shots digging into my armor, but I didn't stop. Rather, I couldn't stop. My body was frozen in fear, and I could only watch in horror as the enemy grew bigger and bigger on my screen.

"Aren't you going to stop?" Minerva whispered.

I shook my head. "No," I whispered, and again hit the boost.

"_What the fuck?!"_

**KRSHK!**


End file.
